


Against All Odds

by RedheadedBlondeBitxh



Series: Small Touches and Subterfuge [1]
Category: Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, TW: Miscarriage/Intrauterine Death, TW: Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 281,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedheadedBlondeBitxh/pseuds/RedheadedBlondeBitxh
Summary: Waking up 200 years in the future at the hands of Vault Tec had been ironic, to say the least. Nora was certain that crawling out of Vault 111 was the hardest thing she'd ever have to do, and that choosing to survive was the biggest decision she'd have to make after her universe imploded. Foolish really, luck had never been her friend and braving the nuclear wasteland of what used to be Boston wasn't going to be a cake walk, if such a thing still existed.As things come to light during her travels, both Nora and Danse work through their complicated feelings about the sinister truth of the organizations they thought defined them.
Relationships: Cait/Piper Wright, Danny Sullivan/Piper Wright, Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Preston Garvey/Sturges, Scribe Haylen/Knight Rhys (Fallout)
Series: Small Touches and Subterfuge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938718
Comments: 204
Kudos: 61





	1. Crawl Out Through The Fallout

**Author's Note:**

> The slowesssssst burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Crawl out through the fallout, baby  
> You know what I mean  
> Crawl out through the fallout  
> 'Cause they said this bomb was clean'

Nora felt herself wake with a gasp, disorientation clouding her mind as her arms flew to the cold glass in front of her. She couldn't remember feeling so cold in her life, panic sweeping over her as her mind was operating in overdrive to process her surroundings, which were suddenly coming into focus.

_Take a deep breath, ground yourself and analyze your surroundings._

In an instant her training took hold, her shock and despair replaced by her cold resolution to address the issue before her. She was trapped, locked in the cold metallic grave which she remembered entering just minutes before. But had it really just been minutes? Immediately she felt hesitant of her own recollection, her eyes scanning her environment. Where moments before the pods around her had glistened with the sort of luster only newly manufactured steel could provide, now there appeared to be ice crystals forming at their base and exterior.

A memory struck her with all the force of a sentry bot to the chest.

_Shaun. Nate._

In that moment she recalled the vivid memory her mind had been so keen to repress, something to deal with later when she was free from the grips of danger she instantly felt upon her wake. On one hand the scene in her mind felt blurry and surreal. Almost like she had witnessed it happening to someone else. Surely her own eyes had not seen the balding, harsh man murder her husband in cold blood, for the simple infraction of not being willing to forfeit their infant child to the grips of the unknown. How could anyone blame a father for being steadfast in the defense of his own child?

Suddenly, her hands felt the glass before her move, a soft mechanical whir filling the air as she felt her would-be-tomb open. Dropping unceremoniously from the chamber, Nora felt herself gasping for breath. Her knees hit the floor first, followed only seconds later by her frigid palms.

“Fuck!” she gasped as her body made contact with the floor, pain radiating up through her, only exasperated by the cold and the growing sense of dread eating away at her stomach. With a soft sigh, she forced herself to a standing position. Everything around her spun, her mind disoriented as it raced to match up with her reality.

Nora could feel herself walking forward, toward Nate, however her mind seemed elsewhere, fully disassociated from the scene before her. Fighting back the burning in her eyes as tears began to form, she forced her hand forward, opening the pod mindlessly. Her eyes were fixed on Nate’s, a small glimmer of hope crushed instantly as the pod door cleared her field of vision.

_Dead. He’s undeniably....Dead...Oh my God._

She knew instantly upon scanning her husband’s figure that he was beyond help. The bright red blood stood out against his dark skin which had since settled several shades paler than it should've been, than she'd ever seen him, indicating he was absolutely, 100%, beyond any desperate hope, deceased. She was no stranger to corpses, having seen far too many people passed on into the next life during her short time in the field. All of the vibrance she had once memorized on his face, gone for the rest of eternity.

Still, despite her certainty that he was gone, she forced herself to verify. Placing two fingers on his neck, Nora felt the cold, rigid skin beneath her finger tips. At the contact, she yanked her hand away, as if she had been burned by the sudden change in temperature.

She wanted to cry, or to scream, or to beat the head in of the first person she saw, but she didn’t. Shock and focus immediately took over, numbing the dull ache in her chest to cold indifference. She had felt this happen dozens of times on the force, the intense panic being pushed into the back of her mind as she approached danger, not letting herself feel it until the middle of the night when sobs would destroy her body, chasing any hint of sleep away in favor of self loathing.

Nora stifled a sob, the cruel irony mocking her in the recesses of her mind. Nate had never been a fighter, espousing all the characteristics of patience and virtue. He had spent his life defending the innocent souls falsely accused of heinous, egregious crimes. With the rising threat of the Red Menace, her husband had been consistent in his defense of their would be foes on the other side of the world. While their neighbors openly condemned any of their fellow citizens over their potential Asian heritage, Nate had made it a point to go out of his way to include those shunned by their fellow man.

Nate had been outspoken about his disapproval for the mounting attacks against Asian-Americans resulting from the rampant paranoia and propaganda consuming the nation. He had been the only partner at his firm willing to take on cases of alleged treason against the United States, defending his fellow Americans from the racism and hatred permeating their justice system.

No, she thought to herself, for Nate’s death to be caused from an act of violence is nothing short of a mockery of his life.

Shaking her head as a profound sadness overtook her and she ripped herself from the thought, forcing her training to overtake her. Immediately she began scanning the room for points of entrance and egress. She instantly saw the skeleton, dressed in a lab coat, resting at the door which she had entered what seemed like minutes ago.

How long had she been here? More importantly, where was her son?

Nora steeled herself against the scene, not able to focus on the questions attacking her thoughts. All she had to do was get out.

*

Nora winced, fighting back against the scene before her. The Vault had been virtually empty save for a small amount of ammunition and rations, which she happily took.

_Who knows what is waiting outside those ugly metal doors?_

She didn’t take the time to explore the Vault fully, her core focus on getting to safety and searching for survivors, far away from the metal cemetery where she seemed to be the last hint of life. Save of course, for what she was half convinced with a delusion, of cockroaches much larger than an insect had any right to be. The blood on her shoes was the only indication that those monstrosities had been all too real.

She thought that despite their initial terror, the roaches had not been too horrible to deal with. A few well placed whacks with the wrench she found seemed to address the threat sufficiently.

But the creatures nor the heartbreaking scene in the Vault had prepared her for what she was going to see upon her exit from the elevator. The scene before her was barren, where there had once been bright green grass and flourishing indications of life, there were now broad strokes of brown and yellow, destruction and dilapidated homes as far as her eyes could see.

The heat hit her instantly, trailed quickly by the smell. She could not properly identify it as anything she'd known, the sensation wholly new to her. It was a mix between rot and chemical, clinging to her in the exact same manner that the scent of the poor bodies in the morgue always had done.

She looked around at the soldiers, deceased on the ground. Their bones exposed and picked clean by the animals that undoubtedly had their way with their corpses. Was she the only one left?

_Surely that couldn’t be the case... These soldiers shouldn’t be left to rot here, their families would be devastated. They should be buried with their brothers and sisters._

She sighed again, the only noise she seemed capable of making at this point, despair beginning to fill her chest.

She would put them to rest properly, she promised herself, and forced her legs to keep walking. Her home was right past the gate.

_Or was it - who knows what’s left of it?_

*

200 years. Well, a bit over that, but she figured that was besides the point. Her initial relief at finding Codsworth was immediately replaced by the truth of her harsh new reality. 

_This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This is just another nightmare, determined to attack the remaining traces of sanity._

But none of her other nightmares had ever been like this. She couldn’t create the aching scene by any scope of her imagination.

In an instant she fell, collapsing onto the living room rug in the ruins of what had once been her home. The structure was barely held together by a few carefully placed bolts and screws.

Maybe the whole place would collapse around her, taking her out with it.

The thought offered some comfort, immediately followed by a pang of guilt. Her son was still out there - _wasn’t he_? Or had he perished the same way her neighbors and husband had? She knew there was no way to know how much time had passed since she had seen her son kidnapped while she watched helplessly, trapped inside the pod.

Suddenly, she felt a rumble in her throat, a broken laugh escaping her mouth, followed immediately by tears pouring down her face. The wetness did little to ground her back to reality, her laugh getting louder and more desperate with each passing second. Codsworth began circling her nervously, bombarding her with questions she could hear but no longer process. Words had no meaning any longer, as her comprehension of language well exceeded her current faculties.

Nora stayed there, collapsed onto her rug, hysterically laughing while tears marked her soft face, until she felt darkness overtake her.

_This isn’t real. This is not happening._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all down hill from here, folks.


	2. Civilization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'They have things like the atom bomb,  
> so I think I'll stay where I am  
> Civilization, I'll stay right here'

“Mum? Mum are you all right?” The mechanical voice tainted with the remnants of an English accent prodded her. “You’ve been asleep for several hours and I’ve begun to grow quite concerned!”

Nora groaned to herself, the hard floor an assault against her back. If she kept her eyes closed, she could almost pretend it was one of the nights she and Nate had stayed up late, drinking a bit too much wine and playing Blast Radius until the wee hours of the morning. By the time they noticed the hour, they had been unable to get up from the floor, a combination of their exhaustion and the alcohol taking hold. She could lay there and pretend Nate was holding her...

_He’s not here, you idiot. He’s dead._

She cursed to herself, forcing her eyes open, the morning light spilling through the dilapidated home which had once held such hope for her family. Gone were the curtains she had carefully picked out, the furniture having long since lost a majority of it's bright pigment, faded into varying shades of dusty gray or brown.

Sleep, surprisingly, had been peaceful. Instead of being plagued by her usual nightmares, she had simply drifted away into nothingness.

_Is that what death felt like? Nothingness?_

She wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or if her brain was still trying to catch up to her reality, concocting a slew of new horrors to haunt her nights.

Codsworth had continued pestering her with questions, all falling on deaf ears as she rose to stand. A cold metal arm caught her before she tumbled back to the floor, her head swimming.

“Thanks Codsworth. It’d be horribly tragic to survive the Vault only to be taken out by my own floor, huh?” Nora muttered dryly, a tepid smirk picking at the edge of her lips. Leave it to her to make sarcastic rejoinders in the apocalypse.

“Certainly mum, what would the papers say!”

_People. Codsworth had said there were people in Concord. Albeit, probably not the most savory characters, it was a start._

Nora adjusted her stance, steadying herself before walking toward the counter. She knew she needed to find supplies to make the trek down to Concord, if Codsworth's account was anything to go by. Despite the impending threat of violence, she allowed herself a morsel of hope. She wasn’t alone, there were people out there, and with them, a chance for her to find her son.

After a brief search of her former neighborhood, Nora was able to locate a plethora of food and ammunition.

_No time like the end of the world to learn which of your neighbors were packing._

Despite her guilt at picking through the ghosts of her neighbor’s lives, she took everything she believed could be useful and brought it back to the house, storing it all in the laundry room for safekeeping.

She thought briefly of the grocery stores before the war, the shelves more empty than full in the weeks before the bombs fell. Everyone had panicked, stocking up on every conceivable good they could find, determined that the stores wouldn’t be able to refill their inventory as the U.S negotiations with China grew more tense. She snorted to herself at the memory.

_Well, t_ _hey weren’t wrong._ _There definitely would not be any trucks coming to the Super Duper Mart anytime soon._

Looking over the decent-sized stockpile she’d accumulated in such a short period of time, she paused in indecision. The shotgun stood out to her, the accuracy of a shotgun at close range was admirable, given the user’s ability to withstand the kickback.

Nora smiled, remembering the loudmouthed young man, Warson, she’d gone through training with. Eager to impress the female recruits, he volunteered to display proper shotgun technique before any of the others had so much as a chance. As he turned the shotgun down range, she recognized the flaws in his stance immediately, but said nothing at his error.

With a loud bang reverberating around them, she saw the man fly back, the shotgun clattering to the floor.

A few of the recruits snickered behind her and she caught her trainer’s face, a sly smirk creeping upon it. It had seemed that he had also seen the mistake well before Warson had fired, but more importantly, he knew she had seen it too.

“Recruit Smith, please pick up the shotgun and explain Warson’s error." The trainer ordered, gesturing toward the discarded weapon.

She paused, a warmth creeping into her face. While she appreciated the chance to display her abilities, she hated to do it at the expense of her fellow recruit.

“Yes sir” She answered, reaching to get the shotgun laying on the ground to her right. “When firing a weapon such as a shotgun, one can expect a fair amount of recoil. It is imperative to maintain a good stance, with your knees slightly bent. When placing the shotgun against your shoulder, you need to bring your elbows in to your sides and lean into the shot. Bring the sun to the horizon and -”

The shot rang out, hitting the target center mass. Warson regarded her with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape from where he had brought himself to a stand behind her. She could see the red mark on his cheek, a bruise undoubtedly forming under the delicate skin.

“What the fuck were you talking about bringing the sun to the horizon? You gotta teach me that shit, Smith, if it helps me shoot like _that_.” Warson broke into a grin, their fellow recruits mirroring a similar excitement, buzzing with whispers.

A sudden noise behind her made her jump, the memory already receding from her thoughts. Nora spun, the shotgun in her hands, pointed at the figure entering the door.

“Mum! Mum?” Codsworth’s voice rang out as he suddenly stopped, eyeing the shotgun suspiciously. “Are you having one of your night terrors again ma’am?”

With a sigh she relaxed, bringing the shotgun to her side as she ran her free hand over her face. She was here, in Sanctuary Hills, not back at the academy.

“No Codsworth, sorry. I was miles away and you scared me when you came in.”

“Oh mum please forgive me! I should have knocked before entering upon you in such a state.” The robot made a garbled noise that sounded very close to a sigh.

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is your home as much as it’s mine,” she chuckled to herself “Maybe more so, since you _have_ been keeping it standing for the past two centuries. Possession is nine tenth of the law after all... Besides, we’re family you big bucket of bolts.”

Codsworth’s expression softened at the statement and he floated towards her where she stood at the hall entrance. “I’ve found another firearm for your arsenal! This one looks to be in quite superb condition if I might add.”

The robot extended the rifle to her eagerly, her eyes widening with excitement.

“Codsworth, it’s gorgeous! It looks like it’s still in mint condition. Thank you.” She took the rifle, her hands checking their components deftly, running it through a variety of function checks before accepting that it was in full working order.

She looked back at the shotgun, now propped against the door frame, her eyes inquisitive. She knew she could take a couple pistols, but she imagined carrying more than one long gun for any significant distance could prove foolish, especially as she was out of shape since having Shaun.

Better to take the rifle, she decided with a pang in her chest. While she loved the practicality of the shotgun, it would be irresponsible to disregard it’s state of disrepair. The rifle would probably last longer and would be accurate from a much further distance than the shotgun. Not that long-rang shooting was ever her forte.

Nora finished packing her bag, throwing it onto her back with a grunt. She paced the living room, running through the plan in her head.

_Get to Concord. Find anyone who may have seen Shaun or the ugly bastard that took him. Try not to die._

“Codsworth, what do you know about the people in Concord? Any information would be helpful.” She asked, her eyes scanning the living room, wracking her brain for anything she may have forgotten to grab.

“I regret to admit my experience with them was rather limited, they did not seem the friendly sort, but that could possibly be because their lack of familiarity with my particular model of Mr Handy unit.” The robot hovered before her, clear apprehension in his voice.

“No worries, thank you Codsworth.” She forced a smile to her lips. She had initially considered bringing the robot with her, acknowledging the tactical benefit he could play in a fight, but considering his previous encounter.... She didn’t want to lose anyone else, even though she knew Codsworth would gladly follow her into battle at her first request. “I should get going. Think you can hold down the fort for a bit? I don’t know how long it’ll be until I can get back here...”

“Of course, mum! I will warn you, should another two centuries pass I might be moved to send out a search party for you.”

Nora smirked, the robot certainly had his own personality, much different from many of the previous, more stuffy models she had the misfortune to meet at her neighbor’s dinner parties. Though Alice’s companion, Rogersworth came close. She shook the thought of them from her head.

_No time for reminiscing at the end of the world._

“I won’t stay out _too_ late mom, promise.” She smarted back, smirking as she turned to leave, her hand on the door frame, pausing. “Before we left for the Vault-” she stopped, unsure how to apology for abandoning her friend for so long without so much as a kind word. “I’m sorry Codsworth. It was so sudden. Not even time for goodbyes.”

“Not a single worry, mum, as I shared your priorities completely. Family safety first, above all else!” Codsworth reassured Nora, watching her astutely.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll come back again, I promise” She nodded and slipped out the door before her nerves could convince her to stay.

*

The path through her old neighborhood whispered at her with the ghosts of it's memories. She could almost see the place as it had been, vibrant colors now dulled from the passing of time and nuclear fallout.

She stopped as she reached the bridge and checked her PipBoy. If Codsworth’s directions were right, it would take her about an hour to get to Concord, assuming the journey was free of complications. Then again, nothing in her life had been free from complications. Who knew what other god awful creatures lurked beyond the relative safety of her neighborhood.

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” She whispered to herself, reminding herself that she wasn’t someone who broke down at the potential of adversity.

_Shaun._

The name broke through her mind, like a car crash, mangling any other thoughts or doubts she had dared to entertain.

No, she wasn’t going to stop until she found him, or at the very least, found out what happened to him.

She began walking, her feet echoing over the wooden bridge, the silence overwhelming her.

By the time she realized what she was looking at, Nora was already in the parking lot.

The Red Rocket looked nothing like it had the last time she saw it. Her mouth dropped slightly at the sight, unsure how to feel about it’s state of disrepair. She remembered the numerous times she and Nate had driven passed it, a bright reminder that home wasn’t too far away.

As her mind began to wander, a loud bark brought her back to reality.

“This better not be a fucking evil, giant dog or some shit...” She mumbled to herself, spinning, pistol trained on the animal before her. She stopped, shock crumpling her features as she lowered her pistol to the ready gun position, not convinced to the creature’s innocence as of yet.

Before her stood a large furry brown animal, which had this been 2077, she would be willing to bet good money was a pure-bred German Shepherd. The animal blinked at her, cocking his head, his large brown eyes trained on her, darting between her face and her pistol.

_Does he know what a gun is? Had someone shot at him before?_

Her face softened, resolve melting at the thought of someone shooting at the poor animal. Putting the pistol back into the holster on her thigh, Nora reached out her hand, cautious as not to alarm the dog.

In an instant, the dog trotted toward her, happily sniffing her hand before venturing to lick her fingers.

“Aww, who’s a good boy?” She cooed, smiling as she began to run her hand through his fur. “Did you lose your owner? It’s okay, I lost someone too. I can tell someone loved you, look how handsome your coat is...”

Nora stopped, a strange sense of relief filling her chest. She always liked dogs, more than people usually. Before the war Nate had asked about getting a dog for Shaun to grow up with and she was all too happy to agree, delighted at the idea of a typical American family, down to the dog. Now, she finally had the damn dog, but no family.

“Don’t worry buddy, if we don’t find your family you can stay with mine. Well, so far it’s just me and Codsworth - he’s a robot, I hope that’s not an issue,” She rambled, talking to the dog soothed her, the fact that he couldn’t talk back gave her the captive audience she needed to voice her growing concerns. She could pretend she was talking for the benefit of the dog, but she knew that wasn’t really the case. “But he’s really funny, in an odd sort of way. A bit too helpful, if I'm being honest, it’s annoying at times, but he's family.”

She continued talking as she searched the area, entering the truck stop to see if there was any sign of the dog’s owner inside. There wasn’t, but she was able to find some additional resources.

“Well buddy, it looks like you might be stuck with me for a little while... I could get you to Codsworth but I have a feeling he wouldn’t know what to do with you.” She sat down on the floor inside the garage, rummaging through her bag. “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you? I have some sort of potted meat and some water. Don’t know if it’s good for you, but better than nothing, right?”

Nora pulled out a cup from her pack along with a bowl. After making sure the dog was adequately fed, she patted him absent-mindedly. She was still a good thirty minutes from where Concord should be, but the heat had begun to get to her.

_Two hundred years as an icicle might do that to a gal._

A short break wouldn’t hurt, besides, the dog looked happy to sit on her lap despite his size.

“How the fuck do they have pure bred German Shepherds two hundred years in the future but not working cars?” She inquired, looking down at the brown eyes like she expected an answer.

Her mind began to wander again, a memory prickling at the corners of her mind.

*

“Honey, don’t be mad -” She started, adjusting herself in the passenger seat, comfort seemed impossible with the size of her stomach being what it was. She braved a quick look over to Nate, his tight, short curls slightly out of place from where he ran his hands through it only moments previously. The corners of his mouth pulled at a a smile, he already knew what this insane woman was going to say.

“You have to pee again?” He taunted, a laugh breaking free from his mouth where he had been trying to suppress it. He glanced at his insane, stubborn and currently, very annoyed, wife struggling in the passenger seat. Nora rolled her eyes, glaring at him.

“You know, mocking your severly pregnant wife for having to pee while she has planet-sized stomach, which, my I remind you, is a result of _your_ doing, is unlikely to end well for you.” She glared at him, forcing herself to hide the smile trying to rise to her face. Nate chuckled, glancing at her, before turning into the truck stop.

“I’m pretty sure I remember you eagerly participating.” He teased, putting the car in park before turning to look at the gorgeous woman before him. “You know I heard closer to the end of pregnancy, the mom starts blaming the dad for everything. Good to see we’re almost ready to see our little potato.”

“Nate...” She groaned at the comment,”Please stop referring to our future child as a potato. For one, they’re much bigger than a potato, I can assure you for the pressure on my bladder alone, and for another, it annoys the shit out of me.”

Nora knew she was being harsh, but something about the nickname justbothered her. She pushed the car door open, walking to the entrance of the truck stop. She risked a glance back at her husband, who was watching her with a gentle smile. Leave it to Nate to melt away her annoyance with a simple grin. How he could be so patient and forgiving when she was being a bitch at every turn, she couldn’t fathom. She wink back at him before entering the station.

Upon exiting the restroom, she saw Nate sitting at one of the little tables placed outside, an assortment of snacks laying on the surface before him.

“I figured you might be hungry,” He stated, risking the implication. Of course he knew she was hungry, the inane man knew her better than she knew herself. Sighing, Nora forced herself into the seat across from him, before grabbing a bottle of Nuka Cola. Cherry, of course.

“Are you implying I’m moody because I’m hungry?” She state dryly, eyeing him cautiously.

“Oh no, you’re not getting me to incriminate myself. I plead the fifth officer, you should wait to speak to me when my lawyer’s present.” Nate joked, relaxing as he sipped his own soda. “But honestly, honey, I figured you would be hungry _because_ you barely touched your breakfast, and I know you weren’t able to eat much last night either. I wanted to make sure you ate something, even if it is just some gas station snacks.”

Nora softened, tears prickling at her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch to you, Nate. You’ve been nothing but sweet this whole time and I just keep, keep-”

The tears were coming now, leaving glistening trails down her face, as she stopped talking. She hated crying more than anything, and really hated crying in public. She must look like a hysterical mess to the other patrons mulling about.

“Honey, take a deep breath” The voice was soft and soothing, encapsulating her hands in his. “You are growing a human, babe, a whole-ass human, inside your body. You have hormones flooding through you right now in a way you’ve never had before. If the worst you’re doing is being grumpy and short with me, you’re rocking this whole process. Besides, it’s cute when you’re grumpy and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t teasing you on purpose.”

“You asshole!” She muttered, a flirtatious smile filling her tear stained face. “You’re doing this on purpose? You’re purposely trying to annoy your wife by calling your child a potato?!”

Nate feigned offense at the accusation, sarcastically stating “Why, I would never, that would be cruel.”

Nora just shook her head, rolling her eyes as she reached for the gumdrops on the table.

“Do you know why I call our baby a potato all the time?” Nate ventured earnestly.

“To annoy me, apparently.” She stated between gumdrops.

“Well, yes, that’s true. But the reason I started calling them a potato was...” He paused, the confidant facade slipping momentarily, with a slight blush he continued. “Every time we went to the doctor, they kept telling us how big the baby was getting. A blueberry. A grape. A strawberry. You would fixate on whatever produce they stated until the next appointment.”

“I did not-” She argued, her voice bearing the faint tone of accusation.

“You did! You kept buying strawberries and staring at them like they were going to bite you. If it weren’t for Codsworth finally hiding the damn package, you would have stayed up all night staring at them.”

Nora rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in an attempt to intimidate the man into getting to his point.

“Anyways, one of the appointments the doctor said they were the size of a potato and,” Nate sighed, a nervous look crossing his face. “That’s when it became real. I could conceptualize a baby the size of a potato. That’s the moment it truly hit me that I was going to be a father. We were starting a family and the joy I felt at that moment - It was the happiest I had ever been in my entire life. I suddenly understood why you would stare at that damn box of strawberries.”

She felt the tears picking at the corners of her eyes again. “Thank you for telling me. I love you, Nate.” Reaching for the hand before her the dark skin contrasting against her own. Nora smiled, exchanging a tender look with the man she loved. “Is there anything you lawyers can’t debate?”

Nate laughed, the tender moment accentuated by their customary humor.

“I’m still convinced getting you to marry me was my best argument yet.” He countered, wrapping his fingers in hers. “Ready to go?”

*

The sound of a loud bark drew her from the memory, startling her enough to hit her head against the wall.

“Ah, fuck. You got to be kidding me.” She groaned and stood, as the dog paced around a box on the ground. “What do you got there boy?”

A medical kit lay in the rubble, surrounded by empty Nuka Cola bottles.

“Good boy! That’s an excellent find.” She beamed, scratching the animal’s head before throwing the kit into her pack. “You can never be too prepared, especially out here.”

She began walking south, opening her PipBoy as she tried to read the horribly outdated map. Fortunately, only a few minutes had passed since she’d been lost in the memory. She didn’t have time to waste remembering all that she lost, but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“Are you coming or what? You don’t have to, but I’d like the company.” She looked back to see the dog bounding toward her with a creature in it’s mouth.

The dog placed the large, bald ugly thing at her feet, looking eagerly for approval.

“Oh gee, uh, thanks buddy...” She trailed, eyes fixed on the animal. It vaguely resembled a rat, only much larger and uglier than any she’d every seen. She absentmindedly patted the dogs head, looking toward the road before her. “Is everything out here giant and fucking ugly? First the roaches and now this....thing? The humans better not look like this.”

She chuckled to herself, the shock and incredulity seeping back in.

No, she didn’t have time to have feelings about the state of the world right now. She had to get to Concord.

With a nod of her head, she began forward again, the dog trailing behind her.


	3. Dear Hearts and Gentle People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Because those dear hearts and gentle people  
> Will never ever let you down.'

The walk was helping clearing her head, as her thoughts began organizing into concrete objectives. It was how she tackled any major problem she encountered, especially in the field, but it worked just as well at home too.

Nursery needed repainting a third time? Make a a mental list of what needed to be done to prime and paint the walls. The time lapse. And where to put the furniture when it finally came. She promised Nate it would be the last time, but the look in his eyes said he definitely didn’t believe her.

It helped her feel in control of the situation, so as she walked, she worked, making a mental list of what she needed to do.

_Get to Concord. Talk to the people there. Hope they’re not giant and ugly motherfuckers, like the roaches or the rats. Ask about Shaun._

But what would she say?

“Hey have you seen a tiny, beautiful baby and a bald asshole sometime in the last 210 years?” She sarcastic asked the dog, his brown eyes watching her. He answered with a whimper. “Yeah, I didn’t think it sounded too good either. We’ll keep working on it. Thanks, uh, dog.”

She paused, not sure what to call him. The pup had been friendly enough company, even venturing to take out some of the heinous rat creatures that had popped up along the way. Surely he had a name, but without anyway of knowing what it was, she’d have to think of one herself.

A fucked up part of her brain considered calling him Nate, but decided against it.

_Who knows what Freud would have said on the matter, musing about the psychological trauma of naming a pet after one’s dead husband..._

The Dog, which is what she decided to call him until she found a better name, looked back at her as if he could read her thoughts.

Breaking eye contact with The Dog, Nora’s gaze scanned the buildings she was quickly approaching, searching for movement of any kind. The place looked deserted, well, worse than deserted really. The buildings were crumbling around themselves, graffiti and skeletons littering the debris. She felt her stomach drop at the sight.

_More bodies. More people who had been rotting alone, left to weather the cruel conditions of nuclear destruction._

She thought of the soldiers up at the Vault. She promised them she’d come back for them, give them a proper funeral and resting place. She’d have to get her neighbors in the Vault as well as Nate.

_Nate._

She stopped, not allowing herself to think of her husband, dead and alone in a metal tomb beneath the Earth. There was a time and place for reminiscing, but standing in the ruins of Concord surely wasn't it.

The sound of gunshots rang out, the faint echo of shouting could be heard as she approached the center of the city. Instantly, she felt herself tense, adrenaline pumping through her veins. It had been a long time since she’d been around a firefight, but her instincts immediately kicked in. Raising the rifle to her eye, she scanned the area.

_Go towards the sound of gunshots. That’s where the threat is, don’t bother searching the surrounding buildings. Take down the shooter and reevaluate for active threats._

Suddenly the scene before her unfolded, two groups, both firing madly at each other in front of the Museum of Freedom. The irony of a bloody gun fight in front of this particular museum was not lost on her. The screams and gunshots tore through her mind as she analyzed the situation. The small group on the balcony, trying to stave off the armored group below from getting inside the building. Considering the scene, she tried desperately to figure out who the primary aggressor was.

_If the Castle Doctrine still applied, the group on the balcony was well within their rights to shoot at the intruders. It’d be justifiable murder, protecting themselves and their property. But what if they were there because they had broken in and the group on the ground was just trying to get their home back? But who knew what sort of legal system they had now?_

_Surely the group on the ground was the aggressor, with their heavily armored attire and continued attacks. The group on the museum balcony had no armor and was considerably smaller in number._

Before she could decide, someone from the armored group on the ground fired a shot at her.

“Oh, I think the fuck not.” She cried out, the bullet hitting the building behind her. She turned her focus on the closest man, who was now running toward her with a tire iron. With the slightest flick of her finger, she pulled the trigger, sending the assailant back on his ass, screaming in pain.

The Dog begin charging at the remaining assailants, biting at their legs before running away, just out of reach from his would-be attackers each time.

“I’m gonna turn your fucking dog into dogmeat stew, you bitch!” She heard a harsh female voice yell.

_Apparently The Dog is a scrapper, and it’s always good to have backup. Never smart to turn down a free gun, or bite, rather._

The man stood back up, albeit wobbling, grabbing a jagged piece of metal from the ground, and began approaching her once more. Two more shots put the man out of commission, permanently.

_Did people really eat dogs now?_

The question was bothering her more than she wanted to admit, considering she had just killed someone for the first time in her life, even if it was 'justified'.

Nora swung back towards the group, two more members stalking toward her. One of the assailants was a tall bald woman, the other had their face covered by a red bandanna. The Dog ran toward the person with the bandanna, taking a firm bite out of their calf before jumping away as the aggressor turn to issue their idea of justice.

Looking back at the woman, she immediately noticed the gun in the attacker's hand, a pit of anxiety forming in her stomach. As soon as the female raised the gun, Nora fired, two to the body and one to the head, just as she was taught. She turned back to the final attacker, their red bandanna now on the ground behind them.

“Listen buddy, I’m giving you a chance to get out of here. Run, and don’t think about coming back.” Her voice remained steady, but her nerves raged rampant underneath the wrap of her cool tone.

Her would be attacker stopped, pausing momentarily as if considering the offer. In a yell, they charged right towards her, a switchblade visible in their hand.

Two more shots. The assailant dropped, eyes dark and empty before they reached the ground.

Nora scanned the scene before her once more, watching carefully to see if any more armored assholes felt like charging at her today.

“Hey! Up here, on the balcony! I’ve got a group of settlers inside! The Raiders are almost through the door! Grab that Laser Musket and help us! Please!” A voice rang out through the night, drawing her attention to the balcony.

Her eyes snapped to the place where the voice came from. A tall, attractive black gentleman dressed like some sort of historical role player waved his arm to her. She spotted the musket immediately, picking it up carefully and frowned. She didn’t have as much experience with energy weapons, but it certainly would be tactically disadvantageous to leave it in the road. Who knew who might come pick it up, and possibly fire two warning shots into her turned back.

Slinging the rifle over her back and shouldering the new weapon, she entered the museum, The Dog not far behind.

_Settlers?_ She thought back to the strange man’s words. S _o there was a group of scared civilians inside being attacked by a band of - what had he said? Raiders? A group of violent misfits who fired at anyone in their vicinity and asked question later?_

That definitely sounded like her sort of problem, at least.

She thought of the gangs which had begun taking over Boston in the months before the bombs fell... Attacking and cornering anyone who they deemed to be working with the Chinese military.

No, she wasn’t even a little okay with a group of thugs attacking a group begging for help.

Nora made her way through the building, shooting anyone who started shooting at her first, trying not to think of their families or childhood. Slowly she began picking off attacker after attacker, each one wearing similar leather armor which she realized represented their vicious gang. _Raiders_.

The Dog trotted behind her, helping her all the while, he had now taken down his own small group of the Raiders inside. He had even found a box of ammunition in a dark corner, pawing at it as if to point it out to her.

She regarded The Dog strangely, eyes scanning his furry face.

_How much bloodshed had he seen before stumbling out of the Red Rocket?_

Saving the curiosity for a more appropriate time of reflect, she shook her head.

_The civilians._

The man had been on the balcony, so he would probably be on that floor, somewhere close by. She cleared room after room, not getting the chance to show mercy as everyone she encountered began firing on her before she could even consider negotiating peace.

Finally, rounding the corner, she saw a small group of people huddled together in a room, the man who had yelled at her from the balcony guarding the doorway, protecting his companions from harm with his stance The posture was firm, it’s message obvious.

'You’re not getting to my people. Not over my dead body.'

The man instantly lowered his own weapon upon seeing her, a shallow smile breaking across his face. He smiled, but she could see that in his eyes, he was tired.

“Man, I don’t know who you are, but your timing’s impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.” The man reached out his free hand towards her which she politely accepted.

“The Minutemen? As in the group of colonial vigilantes from the 1700’s?” She asked incredulous, removing her hand from the shake and narrowing her eyes at the man before her. The Minutemen where a critical piece of Massachusetts’ history, after all. “So now I’m traveling backwards in time?”

The man behind Garvey let out a small chuckle, quickly covered up by a cough that was obviously forced.

“Protect the people at a minute's notice. That was the idea. So I joined up, wanted to make a difference. And I did, but... things fell apart. Now it looks like I'm the last Minuteman left standing.” Garvey muttered, his eyes far off, distracted by the place the words had brought him to in his thoughts.

The Dog walked gently over to the tall, forlorn man, nudging his hand with his nose. Garvey bent to scratch The Dog before continuing to explain the unfortunate events that led their paths to cross.

_Dog trusts him, that's certainly a good sign._

She instantly felt bad for making fun of the group as she glanced around the room. It was clear they had been through hell, with Garvey the only one looking like he even knew how to hold a gun, much less use one.

Nora vaguely heard the man continuing his speech in the background, picking up bits of information as her mind raced. The adrenaline had begun wearing off, leaving her muscles tired and her thoughts cloudy. This was the part she hated about the job - well, the part she had hated when she was still employed with the Thistleborough Police Department.

Suddenly the voice stopped, Garvey’s eyes affixed to hers, expectantly awaiting an answer.

_What had he said? Did he ask a question?_

The harsh looking brunette woman in the corner spoke up, anger seeping from her tone.

“The bitch isn’t willing to help, she’s just as bad as the Raiders.” The woman spat, glaring at Nora as a timid man grabbed onto her arm, pulling her to the other room, whispering.

“I’ll help however I can.” She felt herself say, eyeing the place where the woman had once stood. Sure, she was trying to find Shaun, but the citizens were woefully unprepared to travel anywhere. She thought of the oath she took long ago, to protect and serve.

“Thanks. It's... good to meet someone who really cares. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a safe place to settle. Those Raiders proved us wrong. But... well, we do have one idea...” Garvey looked like he was about to faint, his face paling at the mention of this illusive idea, she thought, cautiously watching the man.

The other man, Sturges apparently, who had been standing behind the Minuteman began running down the escape plan. Nora listened to the plan, one she acknowledged as flimsy at best, but undoubtedly their best hope. As she focused her attention on the objectives, she looked back over to Garvey.

The look in his eyes was a familiar one, an emptiness longing to give up the fight, bound by a profound sense of duty and responsibility. She thought briefly of her last partner, Sergeant Lance Kevins, who had worn that same expression for far longer than she was willing to admit, even to herself. The same eyes that woke her up more times than she wanted to count, in the middle of the night, as a cold sweat drenched her body.

No, whatever it took, she was going to help this Garvey character and his band of settlers.

Picking off the remaining Raiders had been easy from the roof, Nora thought happily, relieved she was able to enjoy the full range of her rifle from up there.

She stood back up with a sigh, scanning the horizon to ensure that there were no other threats seeking to harm her new charges. She glanced uneasily at the Power Armor still

rooted in position behind her.

The thought of entering into a confined metal space sent a shock of pure dread down her spine.

_Encased in metal with a single button the sole means of freeing myself? No thanks, it was too similar. Sure, it would have offered a ton of protection, but the Raiders were handled, so there was no point. It was just too much like -_

The worst sound Nora had ever heard in her entire-goddamn-life broke through the air, her blood running cold as terror whispered at the back of her neck. If evil could make a sound, she imagined it would not been too much different from what she had just heard.

Spinning around, her eyes widened upon locating the source of the sound. Not that it would have been difficult to locate the monster, giving the creature's massive size.

_Deathclaw._

She gulped. She had heard about the Deathclaw Project the U.S military had been working on. Combat killing machines to replace human soldiers on the Chinese battlefield. She’d even seen pictures of the creatures, but nothing could have ever prepared her for the monstrosity before her.

The Deathclaw seemed much bigger and uglier than the ones she had seen previously in photographs, long before the bombs dropped. A theme she noticed consistently with the wildlife she’d encountered, save for The Dog.

The monster roared again, and suddenly, she felt profoundly exposed, the thin material of her Vault Suit still clinging to her skin. Codsworth had said the material had some resistance to radiation. Given the robot’s report of these radiation storms. she had thought it prudent to keep it on.

She glanced back to the Power Armor and the Minigun still attached to the Vertibird.

“Fuck!” She whispered, panic creeping up her throat, removing the last of the air from her lungs, if the feeling was anything to go by. In an instant she threw herself into the suit, metal closing around her figure.

_Trapped, encased in metal once again, you idiot._

She woke up just the previous day, immobile in a metal tomb only to find herself in a very different metal soon-to-be tomb. But she had to try. She thought sadly of the gentle, despondent man inside.

_He's just one more loss away from -_

The creature roared again behind her, running towards the Museum. Nora jumped forward, grabbing the Minigun from it’s stand and turned, firing blindly at the Deathclaw, praying to someone, anyone, that she was in someone’s good graces up there.

After what seemed like hours, the Deathclaw roared a final, agonizing scream and collapsed onto the street, almost out of view from the roof as it had tried desperately to retreat.

_At least the humans hadn’t been bigger and uglier than I remembered._

*

_Sanctuary._

She almost laughed when Mr Preston Garvey had told her that’s where the band of happy misfits were headed. At least, she admitted, they would be much safer there than in Concord. With so few avenues of egress, the small group of settlers might actually be able to actually fortify the neighborhood.

She watch calmly as the settlers walked before her, Sturges far ahead of them, taking the lead with The Dog by his side. Followed by two polar opposite people, who she now knew to be Marcy and Jun Long. Marcy was holding onto the arm of the older woman, steadying her as they walked.

_Murphy_ , she recalled. _Drug addict, apparently._

It had been a long time since Nora had seen someone as strung out at Mama Murphy. The old bat probably wouldn't last much longer if she continued abusing drugs, but that was an issue for another time.

She looked over at the man to her right, Preston Garvey, trying desperately to read his guarded expression. She acknowledged the man looked marginally less devastated than before, a small smile plastered on his face. But she knew, from the look in his eyes, the fight was far from over.

“So, the Minutemen huh? I didn’t think they had been around for a few hundred years. What’s the story?” She asked, hoping to find some answers to the questions bombarding her mind.

“Well,” the man started with a small laugh. “I’m just a member, the last apparently. But I didn’t start the group. The was quite honestly, the settlers. A group of them got together and promised to protect each other. A majority of areas around here are small family farms, with barely enough ammunition to take out a radroach infestation, much less a large Raider attack. But combining forces allowed the settlers to protect each other. Where one settlement had an abundance of food, another had an abundance of steel. They, uh, they were around for a long time. As for the name, well, everyone in the Commonwealth knows the story of the original Minutemen.”

“Radroach? Commonwealth?” She asked suddenly, eyeing the man with amusement as his face lit up at the mention of the group.

“Yeah, radroaches. Big, ugly insects. How do you not know about them? You can’t walk more than 10 minutes before seeing them.” She suddenly became aware of Garvey’s suspicious gaze on her. Apparently they were both trying to figure each other out.

“Ah,” She said, realization dawning on her. “I actually think I’ve met a few of the bastards. Real nice guys, life of the party.”

“Yeah” he said with a gentle chuckle “Irradiated insects always liven things up.”

She nodded, thinking about some of the other creatures she had encountered. Thinking back to her other question, she looked around.

_The Commonwealth._

Well, it was one way to describe what she used to regard as Massachusetts. Her eyes scanned ahead, she kept counting and recounting the members of their team as they moved forward. Admittedly, their progress was going much slower than Nora’s earlier journey from Sanctuary. These people were not militia soldiers nor were they former officers. They were just terrified people trying desperately to survive.

“So, what’s with the Vault suit? Style choice or part of your history?” The blunt question cut through the air like a knife, stopping her in her tracks. She looked back at the man, unsure how much to tell him. She wasn’t particularly keen to divulge her experience to some stranger but...

_Maybe it would help to know he wasn’t the only on dealing with loss._ Her throat suddenly felt very dry as the Red Rocket came into view.

“History. I’ll...” She paused, looking back at the gentle face next to hers. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? It’s not exactly something I want to talk about in front of the others. Let’s get them home first.”

The man carefully raised his eye brown, the choice of words not lost on him.

"Home?" He questioned, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Up ahead, The Dog began barking, running toward the Red Rocket garage. Without a second thought she ran after him, a loud booming sound surrounding them.

_What the hell was that?_

She cursed, eyes scanning the building looking for the offender. It sounded like someone was running toward them. If by someone she meant a 200 pound tank.

She stopped, watching as The Dog ran from the garage, another one of those ugly rats in his mouth.

The sound instantly disappeared and realization dawned on her. She was the asshole making that god-awful sound. She looked down, a gasp exiting her mouth.

She was still in the Power Armor.

Everything seemed too tight and too close, the pressure of the armor squeezing against her body, rapidly stealing her breath with it’s frigid metal pressure.

She wanted nothing more than the escape the suit, but she didn’t know how to get out. Her hands reached up toward her neck, begging herself to feel the release. She should have paid more attention when they were giving those demonstrations to the department, dammit. She could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, hot and angry.

_Where was the fucking button?_

She could her herself begin to panic as soft, quick sobs broke free, echoing around her in the empty awning.

In an instant she was free, strong hands holding onto her shoulders as she fell backward, everything in her body telling her to run. The hand held her tighter, but she spun breaking away.

_Get me the FUCK out of here._

The hands grabbed her again, instinctively she threw her elbow back, connecting with a firm whack.

Spinning, she felt herself reaching for the pistol on her thigh, trying to figure out where her attacker had gone and upon finding him, she went still.

Kneeling on the ground nursing a bloody nose was Preston Garvey, a small smirk on his face as he removed his hand, now stained red with blood.

“Well, let me say, I’m just glad you’re on our side, Nora.” The soft voice broke through her confusion.

“Oh my God Garvey, I-” She stopped, guilt filling her thoughts in a torrential downpour. She had struck this poor man for simply trying to help her out of a set of Power Armor. “I didn’t realize it was you, I was just freaking out, and I, I couldn’t. Garvey I-”

“I feel like after the elbow you just threw me, you could at least call me Preston.” The man smiled calmly, pleased with his witty rejoinder. “Don’t worry about it, shame on me for trying to restrain a woman who was clearly terrified. Especially after your display at Concord - I should have known better.”

She froze, panic and guilt turning into awkward giggles, the sob in her throat melted away. This man was clearly as unhinged as she was, making smart ass comments after being elbowed in the nose.

“My husband would like you, Preston.” She blurted out, the words echoing in her thoughts. She had forced herself not to think of Nate laying in that damn pod the whole journey, focusing instead on the mission.

_Get the civilians to safety._

She quickly whispered, more to herself than to Preston, “He would have liked you.”

She looked up, blinking warm tears from her eyes as she looked around the truck stop. The settlers watched on from the road, Sturges standing in front of them, arms stretched to his sides to protect them from the potential danger of the exchange at the Red Rocket.

_Had they all seen me just moments away from shooting the very man who saved them? Who was whole heartedly willing to sacrifice himself to a band of angry Raiders, out for blood, just to give them a chance?_

Well, that was going to make her time in Sanctuary interesting at least.

Preston followed her gaze, smirking to himself, as if the same thought had crossed his mind. He turned back to the woman in front of him.

“It might help if you took your hand off of your pistol.” He added, pointing to where her knuckles had turned white around the gun.

She let go immediately, rubbing her hand through her hair, before forcing an awkward smile to her lips.

“I have some food and stuff stashed inside the office, if you want to give them a chance to rest?” She offered gently, knowing that the meager resources she'd only managed to stash before setting off with Dogmeat wouldn’t undue the damage she’d caused with her scene. But, it couldn’t hurt to try.

Preston nodded, turned to the others and waved his hand towards the station with a sharp whistle. “Who could use a break? We got some food inside!”

The settlers looked skeptically between the pair before reluctantly agreeing to approach. To be fair, Mama Murphy was no longer the only settler who looked like they were on the verge of collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very specific idea what I want to do with it, more specifically with Danse and his backstory.
> 
> I always thought the companions would have awkward conversations when traveling, and while violence is bound to happen, I figured it'd be boring and long more than anything. 
> 
> IK Dogmeat was prenamed before in the game, but I never listened to Mama Murphy's dialogue to know that until recently and I just wasn't vibing with that fact.
> 
> I DO also have a vague idea about Dogmeat surprise backstory? Maybe.
> 
> Do first responders really forget they're in ballistic armor after a firefight? Yes, yes they do.


	4. Way Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'The roads are the dustiest  
> The winds are the gustiest  
> The gates are the rustiest'

Nora picked at the stain on the leg of her suit, the radroach’s blood now dried and flaky from their encounter the previous day. After the settlers moved to sit under the truck stop awning and began eating the small reserves of food she'd squirreled away earlier, she snuck away, needing a moment of reprieve from the eyes that followed her every movement. The Longs definitely watched her with judgmental eyes, while Sturges and Preston watched her with an air of curiosity, trying to dissect the mystery of the strange Vault-dweller who had stumbled to their aid.

She scoffed as she thought back to the terminology. That’s what that Marcy bitch had called her as she argued with her husband. The man looked increasingly miserable with every word his wife would bombard him with and Nora almost felt sorry for him.

It was shortly after overhearing the couple's argument that she realized she needed to get away from the group for a few minutes, at least.

The sun was beginning to set, casting shades of orange and pink across the wasteland. She had to admit, it was the most colorful she had see the terrain since waking up from her impromptu two century-long nap.

She could hear footsteps behind her, steady and even. She didn’t have to look up to immediately know who it was, besides she was fairly certain that none of the other settlers would be coming over to her after her earlier breakdown.

“You should bring them over the hill. There’s a bridge up ahead, it can’t be more than 15 minutes away. The neighborhood's abandoned, so you don’t have to worry about Raiders or, uh, anything else...” She pointed to the disfigured rat dead on the ground a few feet away.

“Mole rats. I heard the government before the Great War had been experimenting with them to see how big they could grow them.” Preston paused, before moving to sit next to her. She let out a snort, an empty laugh falling from her lips.

“It wouldn’t surprise me, but I never heard about it.” She stated, forgetting the implication of her statement. Suddenly her face felt very hot, embarrassed that she had revealed such a big part of herself to the man she barely knew.

“Wait, you don’t mean...” He trailed off, looking back at where the settlers had seated themselves. Nora suddenly sniffed, fighting back tears. She wasn’t going to let herself cry for a second time today, definitely not in front of the ragtag group.

In an instant, Preston stood and walked away. Perplexed, she turned to see where he had gone. He had walked over to where Sturges stood gathered with the others, handed him the laser musket and was pointing toward the faint outline of the bridge on the horizon. Sturges nodded, before turning back to the group.

Preston turned to approach her again, a worried look on his already anxious face.

_Breathe in, breath out. Focus on the present._

She reminded herself of the mantra her therapist had imparted during their last session months before the bombs had dropped, and managed to steady her breath just before the man sat down next to her again.

“You don’t have to tell me what you're going through, but it’s pretty evident it’s eating you up. So at the very least, it's probably best to be away from the rest of group to process whatever you’re feeling. You don’t need them getting into your business.” He sighed, placing a gentle handle on her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze.

_Can't get away from therapy even in the apocalypse, I guess..._

“I lived in Sanctuary Hills, shortly after it was built. I lived there with my husband and my baby boy, before the bombs fell. Before...” She paused, forcing her hair behind her ears. It wasn’t enough of an explanation, she knew that. But at the same time, it was too much. Too personal to tell this perfect stranger and burden him with her harsh reality.

“That was over 200 years ago, surely you can’t be serious.” He had taken his hand back now, a fact which filled her with relief. Something about the kindness she'd anticipated hurt her in a way she couldn’t describe.

_It's pity._

“Deadly.” She answered dryly, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I know you came from a Vault, that much is obvious.” He stated, pointing toward her suit and PipBoy. “I though maybe you were a scavenger or mercenary that had taken them, but your confusion over well, no offense but everything, kinda ruined that theory. Even the best manipulator wouldn’t play dumb about radroaches. That was too much of clue. But even then, you must have been born in the Vault. Those things closed -”

“210 years ago.” She muttered, her eyes scanning the ground, searching for anything to fix her gaze upon. Bringing herself to look at the man next to her, she searched his face. “I remember. I was there. I heard the bomb. I saw the cloud take out the south half of the city. Those sadistic Vault _bastards_ tricked us!”

She stood suddenly clenching her fists as she felt her repressed rage taking over. She needed to scream, needed to pace around or break something.

_Now is not the time to have a breakdown, Shaun is out there somewhere._

She took a breath before continuing. “Those motherfuckers told us we’d be safe and happy and be able to live our lives in those goddamn metal buckets. Told us to step into the device, said it was purely to decontaminate our clothes before going further in the Vault. There _was_ no further in the Vault. Those fucking bastards froze us. Like some stupid science fiction movie!”

She was seething, her voice much too loud to be safe given the hostile wild life in the area. She didn’t care. One look at the man still seated on the ground told her he didn’t either. “I was frozen, unable to move or escape, but then I woke up. I saw this... this urchin rip my son, still a baby, from my husband’s arms and shoot him... They shot Nate. I, I _tried_ to break out, I beat on the glass until I couldn’t feel my hands and then - nothing. They froze me again, after _murdering_ my husband and taking my son. I was asleep for 210 _years,_ Preston. I have no idea if Shaun is still alive or, or, or-”

She stopped pacing, reality smacking her in the face once more. She collapsed to the ground, pulled her knees to her chest and cried. Heavy sobs wracked her body as she finally allowed herself to admit what she was afraid of. Everyone was dead. Her friends, her family, her coworkers, her son, more than likely.

She stared ahead at the horizon, the sky now much darker than it had been before. She stared forward for so long she didn’t know if what she was seeing was even real.

“Shaun is your son?” The voice jarred her from her gaze.

_Oh yeah, Preston's still here_.

“Yeah. If only I knew how long it had been since they took him, maybe then I’d be able to figure out if.... If it’s pointless to let myself hope.”

“Did you find any clues in the Vault?” Preston asked, a curious look taking over his face.

She blinked. She hadn’t even thought to search for clues in the Vault, she had been so focused on getting the hell out of that prison.

_So fucking stupid, of course if there was any clues about where Shaun went, it would be in there._

“I....I didn’t look?” She whispered, feeling ashamed of herself at her lack of thought. There was bound to be evidence on the terminals but she hadn’t even bothered to check.

“Do you want to?”

She frozen, still as a statue.

_No_ , she thought, she absolutely did not want to waltz back into the cold metallic arms of the wicked place. But, there was the chance it could lead her to Shaun. Or, it could crush the last pebble of hope she let her heart hold onto, desperate to believe that Shaun was alive.

She stood once more, scanning the area. She saw her pack immediately and started walking toward it before turning back to Preston who had begun following her.

“Where the fuck is my dog?” The canine had been absent since his earlier stunt in the garage with the molerat.

_Had he run off and gotten himself hurt? You can't even keep a fucking dog safe, Jesus. What a sorry excuse for a former cop._

“I bet Nate is regretting picking me to be the mother to his child right about now. I can’t even keep an eye on a dog much less a child.” She stated dryly. Preston shot her another pitying expression at that.

“Now hold on now. Nora, your dog is fine. You went to go for a walk, and he wanted to follow you, but I thought you might want to be alone. He’s fine, Sturges is taking care of him.” Preston reassured her, picking up his own bag.

“Thank you.” She said, horribly embarrassed for her outbursts, before turning and beginning her trek back home, back to Sanctuary.

_Back to that goddamn Vault._

“What’s his name?”

“What?” She snapped, much more harshly than she’d intended.

“The dog. Your dog, what’s his name.” Preston offered a reassuring smile, trying to keep the conversation lighter for the remainder of their walk.

“Sorry I was miles away. Uh, yeah, the dog. I don’t really,” She paused, thinking about the valiant little canine taking bite after bite of Raider’s as they tried attacking her. “Dogmeat. His name is Dogmeat.”

Preston’s mouth dropped, shock turning to laughter. He let out a loud, happy laugh, tears filling his eyes.

Nora thought it was a comforting sound, a modicum of genuine happiness buried behind the trauma lingering in the man’s eyes. She began laughing too, much lighter than her companion’s, but no less happy.

“That’s sick, naming your dog that.” He stated, the laughter only just fading from his voice.

“Yeah well,” she paused. “I always had a sick sense of humor. Cop life and all that.”

“Like, the police?” He asked, eager for another piece of the puzzle that was this insane Vault woman.

“Well, yeah. Back in the day. I was on the force for a while.” She shrugged, annoyed that she let go of another secret to this guy, but she didn’t see the point in fighting it at this point. “It, uh, it didn’t work out after a while. And when I found out I was pregnant the first time, I left. Nate was a lawyer and he made enough money for us to be comfortable. He said I didn’t have to go back to work if I didn’t want to.”

“The first time?” He dared, certain that she wouldn’t entertain that line of inquiry, but a part of him couldn’t help himself from asking.

“Yeah,” she paused, watching Preston carefully. “The first time.”

Preston nodded, deep in thought as they approached the bridge. He remained quiet for several moments. His eyes scanned the sign before turning back to her. She hadn’t outright told him to fuck off yet, but he suspected he was reaching the point.

“Did you want to go back to work?” He ventured, thinking it a much safer question than his last.

The question eviscerated her in a way she couldn’t describe. She thought of the fight they had, shortly before Shaun was born.

*

Nate had never been one to raise his voice, his temperament was calmer than anyone Nora had ever met in her life. That wasn’t saying much considering the family she grew up in. A long line of military men with a penchant for cheap whiskey. The fights she’d heard every holiday and Sunday dinner still echoed in her ears, even years later.

But not Nate. She could count on one hand the amount of time’s the steadfast man had raised his voice.

When Nate yelled, it shook her to the core. This was no different, but this time, she wasn’t reeling away, admitting she was out of line like she normally would.

Maybe it was the hormones or the anxiety attack from the previous night, but this time Nate’s anger only fueled her own, pushing her deeper as she exploded at him.

“You can’t keep my locked up the goddamn house like some fucking concubine!” She screamed, her voice echoing throughout the house. She knew her neighbors could probably hear her as they were settling into bed. She didn’t care. She slammed her fist on the counter, her cup of tea spilling from the force.

“I don’t want you locked inside the house but I do have a vest interest in KEEPING YOU ALIVE.” He yelled back, knuckles protruding violently as they gripped the back of the couch. “You almost died NUMEROUS times while working at the police department! And that was in our small town! I can’t imagine how much worse it would be here in Boston! But you, you fucking psycho, YOU want to go and join the ARMY? WHY? So you can get shot and killed? They have NUCLEAR BOMBS on the battlefield! As weapons! Or worse! One misplaced shot to your Power Armor and you would go up in flames! Have you seen the injuries those fusion cores can cause? Cause I have! My client was burned almost over his ENTIRE body. He will NEVER walk again. Am I the asshole for not wanting my WIFE and the soon-to-be MOTHER of my child to go through that?!”

She bristled at his last comment, but ignored it. She knew they’d address that another time, one not fueled by anger but by grief. She pushed on.

“I am an adult, Nathaniel.” She growled, neither one of them willing to move. Codsworth stood frozen in the corner, watching the exchange. “If I want to join the Army and honor my family’s _long_ military history, that is MY choice. You don’t get to hold OUR CHILD as emotional baggage to bend me to you will. I WANT to serve. I WANT to protect my country. _For_ our child. So they don’t have to grow up afraid of being BOMBED by the enemies of this very country!”

“You can barely function NOW! You don’t sleep more than a few hours a night. You barely eat! Last night I woke up to find you WEEPING in the corner of the laundry room. That place BROKE you, they hurt you in ways I can NEVER heal you from.”

“Oh so I’m BROKEN, now?” She spat, eyes narrow with rage. “I guess you really FUCKED UP picking me for a wife, didn’t you now? Then FUCKING LEAVE. If you’re so goddamn miserable.”

“That. Is Not. What. I meant.” He gritted through clenched teeth. She briefly wondered if the couch would ever recover under his vice grip. Probably not, but she didn’t care and neither did he apparently. “Nora.”

Nate stopped, removing his hand from the back of the couch, the deep indent scarring the fabric. He gently pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. He knew he had to regain his composure. The look in his wife’s eyes was unrelenting, piercing into him in a way that he had never seen before.

“What is this really about, Nora?” He asked carefully, his sudden calm tone cracking under the tension.

_Fear._

Nora sighed, flaring her nostrils and clenching her jaw. _He's afraid for your safety, you bitch..._ She saw the desperate plea in his eyes, but had to look away. She couldn’t stand her ground when he was looking at her like that.

“I want to serve.” She said firmly, eyes fixed on the wet mark of spilled tea.

“Haven’t we lost enough? I can’t imagine raising our child without you. Please don’t make them grow up without the honor of having you as a mother. I can’t do this without you. Eleanora, my love. Please.”

She looked up at him, her own eyes wet with tears.

“I’m not the person you married anymore. You married someone who was strong and amazing and badass. I fought the bad guys and saved people. Now, I can barely get through three hours of sleep without a nightmare. Ever since....” She stopped, her breath shaky she looked away. “All I do every day is plan the nursery and think. I can’t stop thinking. About everything I could have done different. Maybe then...”

She trailed off, allowing the thoughts to consume her, filling her with her old friend.

_Guilt_.

“You did nothing wrong. None of that is your fault. Neither of them. Okay? Listen to me.” Nate rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders which had begun to shake. “I love you. I’m sorry for yelling. I know you’re going through so much right now, love.”

Nate gently kissed the top of her head and she nodded, comforted by her husband’s arms around her.

She had been certain that it wouldn’t be the last time they had this conversation but it was the end of the discussion for tonight.

Only it was the last time they’d had that conversation.

*

Nora focused back on reality, the memory ripping open new wounds in her thoughts.

She looked back at Preston, then toward the line of houses in Sanctuary.

“I don’t know.” She turned, walking toward her home and the overly helpful robot friend that awaited her.

Preston watched the woman leave, his curiosity temporarily tapered as she disappeared inside the house.

He turned to where Sturges was standing at the workbench, offering a small wave. Sturges looked at Preston carefully, debating whether voicing his concern was worth the headache.

Preston sighed, walking toward the other man, waiting for the his unavoidable feedback on their new addition.

“I know what you’re thinking, Preston. But don’t.” The man pleaded, his eyes full of concern for his superior. “I know you want to help. You always want to help. Everyone, all the time. It’s what makes you an extraordinary person. But that woman is struggling with something deep. I don’t think you can take on her problems along with your own...”

“It’s not like that.” Preston sighed, eyes darting back to the door where the mysterious woman had disappeared. “I’m fine, but Sturges, she saved all of our lives. We owe it to her to try an help her in whatever way we can. And if you heard her story-”

“This is your issue, Pres. You always hear the sad stories and can’t help yourself from getting involved. You’re spread too thin. We have settlements across the Commonwealth begging for help. _They_ will die without you. You’re taking on too much, and...” The man paused, his hand idly fidgeting with a screwdriver on the workbench before picking it up. “I worry about you, out there, _constantly_.”

“If you’re so anxious to help settlers, why don’t you join? I know you can handle yourself in a fight.” Preston knew his tone was sharper than it should be, trying to control his irritation at the other man.

Sturges shook his head, his refusal had been a point of contention between them before.

“I told you why I can’t. Please don’t ask me to.” Sturges whispered coldly, dropping the screwdriver back to the bench. The unspoken words hung in the air, neither willing to address it.

Preston sighed, looking around nervously when his eyes caught the image of Mama Murphy, seated on the grass, her eyes turned to the sky, watching something only she could see.

“I know, I'm sorry. I won’t ask you to fight for the Minutemen.” He paused, watching Sturges with cautious eyes. “But I would be remiss if I didn’t ask for your help to establish this settlement for me.”

Sturges smiled, nodding as he returned to the work bench.

“Of course boss, I owe you my life. Besides, I’ve already got plans for a water purifier in the works. Maybe your new friend could help me work on them?” Sturges wondered aloud.

“I’m sure she’d be eager to help, but there’s a few things we need to take care of first.” Preston agreed, nodding toward Sturges before turning to find Nora.

No sooner than he turned around did he see her. She has changed into a fresh set of clothes, simple jeans and a plaid shirt. She was followed by Dogmeat and -

He stopped. _Did she have a pet robot too? Was this woman just roaming the Commonwealth collecting pets?_

“Uh, who’s your friend there?” He called, pointing toward the floating robot. Foolishly he had expected an answer for Nora.

“Ah! Fine sir! I am pleased to make your acquaintance! Mum has been telling me about her new friend!” The British robot floated closer to Preston who eyed it with a clear sensation of apprehension. “I must confess, I am very relieved she has made some new friends out her. After, well... Losing so many of the people she knew -”

“That’s enough Codsworth. We don’t need to regale Preston with our sad stories.” She smirked apologetically at her friend before turning to the robot. “We’re going to visit the Vault. We'll be quick - No, don’t give me that face.”

The robot looked toward the ground. If a robot could look guilty, Preston thought, that was exactly how Codworth looked in the moment.

“But mum! The last time you went to the Vault I didn’t see you for over 200 years! Is it really necessary for you to go down there once more?” Dogmeat whimpered at the statement, hiding his head behind her leg.

“Yes, Codsworth. There might be clues as to where Shaun is.” She replied tersely, the robot clearly grating on her nerves.

“Oh, Master Shaun! Of course mum, I understand. But please don’t be long! I’ll get to work on scrubbing the floor of the nursery!” The robot answered before floating back to the house.

Nora sighed, turning her tired eyes to Preston. “Codsworth likes to be helpful.”

“I noticed.” He answered dryly, an amused expression making it’s way to his lip.

“Very helpful.” She stated, stopping to look down at Dogmeat.

“Clearly.” Preston cracked a small smile. “Are you ready?”

In a moment, the woman hardened her face, looking at Preston. With a single, quick nod, she turned on her heels, walking toward the fence she had walked through all those years ago.

_There it is,_ he thought. He could see it now, the soldier inside the woman lost so painfully far from her own time.

_She would make a fine General. Might even save the Commonwealth with a war face like that._

*

She was standing over the entrance to the Vault. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t force herself to walk into that place again.

Shaking her head, she simply stated “Nope.”

She turned, starting to walk away from the area. Preston grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She spun toward him in a fluid movement, ripping her arm away. She still had her face set in a cold resolve, all emotion buried behind cold eyes.

“I’m not going back in that fucking Vault.” She stated plainly, as if she were discussing the weather.

“Okay. You don’t have to.” He agreed, watching as a trace of worry cross her face. She was conflicted. He repeated himself “You don’t have to go back down there. You never have to go back into that Vault.”

He was up to something, and she knew it. But God help her if she knew what it was. She watched as Preston nodded at her and turned toward the open elevator.

“I just jump on this big metal circle and it’ll take me down, right?” He asked earnestly, inspecting the platform.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” She whispered, her cold resolve slipping as she watch her new friend step on the platform. Her chest tightened at the thought of him being trapped down there forever. She couldn’t let him befall the same tragic fate she had.

“You’re not asking, and I’m not offering. I’m going into that Vault, I’m tearing that place apart. And I’m gonna find you a lead. If all else fails, we go to Diamond City and ask around. Someone there has to know something.” He shrugged, stepping closer to the platform. “I - uh, if I go down it’ll let me back up right?”

Preston chuckled nervously, eyeing the platform like it might open up and swallow him whole.

“What? You don’t want to party in a permanent freezer for the rest of eternity? I gotta say, the guest’s aren’t very lively but there’s no one to boss you around.” She cringed at her comment. It had only been two days and here she was mocking her dead husband.

Preston raised an eyebrow, watching her quizzically, being sure to carefully pick his words before answering. “That made a darker turn than I was expecting, but hey. We all cope differently. In all seriousness, I’m not going to get stuck down there, right?”

“You need this,” She felt herself say, reaching toward her wrist to undo the PipBoy. “If you lose this or damage this in any way - it’s not being trapped in the Vault you’ll need to be afraid of. It’s being trapped in the Vault with 210 years of my pent-up of rage.”

Taking the PipBoy from her hand, he looked awkwardly at the device. He opened his mouth to reply, but said nothing, instead turning to step on the platform. As it began descending, he felt a knot take up a permanent residence in his stomach as the world above disappeared from view.


	5. Accentuate the Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Bring gloom down to the minimum  
> Have faith, or pandemonium  
> Liable to walk upon the scene'

It had been two hours. Two hours as Nora watched the entrance to that damn Vault. Two hours since Preston descended beneath the surface. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel given the events from the last two days.

Guilt, for sure. Guilt for surviving. For sitting outside the Vault where her dead husband remained stuffed in a pod, not even given a final resting place. Guilt for not going inside to see him. For not running across all of Boston, tearing the city apart to find her son.

She looked at the soldiers, lying on the ground, their humanity striped from them even in their death. She groaned, forcing herself up. She was pretty sure Mrs. Sullivan had a bunch of shovels at one point. The crazy old bat did run the community garden over in Lexington, after all.

She wondered if there was anything left of it, remembering the way the Museum of Freedom had been picked over down to it's bare bones. She thought of the eager look Nate had when he’d heard about the new additions coming to the museum. His dark eyes had been wide with excitement as he droned on about the new exhibit they were supposed to be opening at the end of the month. Nora tried to listen patiently, nodding along, but found herself more enamored with the utter joy her husband radiated than the topic of conversation. She had promised to take him there for his birthday in November.

She never did.

She shot a cautious look toward Codsworth who was currently still trying to shine their rusted car, ignorant of the blatant fact that it was beyond repair. She didn’t really want the robot’s overly cheerful company but... there had been a few bodies up at the Vault. Not the mention those of her neighbors.

“Hey Codsworth, do you want to help me with something?” She called out, the robot floating over to her immediately.

“Oh certainly mum! I’d love to be of assistance. What is it you’re needing some help with? Possibly looking for one of my delicious bowls of beef stew! Though, I’m not sure where I’d get the beef...” The robot trailed, his eyestalks previously wide with excitement looked to the ground, contemplative.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m pretty sure they still have things to make stew out of, but that’s not what I’m looking for right now. I,” She stopped. She was about to ask a favor of her friend that might be devastating for him in his already fragile state. She thought of the soldiers and the bodies in the Vault, never given a chance to find a resting place, and continued on. “I was hoping you’d help me bury the bodies at the Vault. Around the neighborhood too. It’s...It’s not right for them to be lying out like this... They need to be put to rest.”

The robot remained silent, his eyes staring straight at her face, gauging the enormity of the request. She shifted uncomfortably in the resulting silence.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay. I can do it, I just need to find some shovels.” She comforted, the poor robot was clearly distressed by her request. In a flash, Codsworth turned, floating away to somewhere behind their house. She frowned at the uncharacteristic behavior, trying to figure out what he could possibly be doing.

_Codsworth was not particularly found of outside chores. Was he leaving?_

She felt a pang in her chest. Her poor friend waited 210 years for her to return, only for her to disrespect his boundaries by asking him to dig graves. She sighed, looking at Dogmeat who was pacing at her feet, as if he could sense her distress. She bent down to scratch her companions's neck, his eyes closing gently as the gentle contact. She stood crouched, petting him absentmindedly as she allowed herself to get painfully lost in her own thoughts. In a quick movement, the dog stood, cocking his head to the side.

Nora turned, reaching for her pistol before relief flooded through her. Codsworth had come, but he hadn’t come alone. Following him were Sturges, Jun, and Marcy.

“What’s going on?” She asked softly, her eyes beginning to itch as she saw the settlers carrying shovels.

“You’re little talking robot friend here told me about what you were wanting to do for those soldiers and your neighbors... Given that not only do the Minutemen represent the United State’s armed forces about as well as anyone can these days, we also owe you our lives. We want to help.” Sturges gave her a kind smile, handing her one of the shovels. She took it, the feeling in her chest growing with each passing moment. She knew she needed to say something, but there weren’t enough words to express her gratitude at their sacrifice.

This group, who didn’t owe her anything, who had saw her punch out the man who save them, albeit accidentally, break down and cry, and go out of her way to avoid them ever since they met, _wanted_ to help her.

“Y-You,” She stopped, pausing. She forced herself to regain her composure. She started again, more confidant this time. “You guys don’t owe me anything. I helped you back in Concord with those Raiders because it was the right thing to do. I don’t want anyone to feel obliged to help out, but if you are still willing, you would have my undying gratitude. I can’t express... I can’t express how much this means to me.”

She looked at the group before her, noticing the red and puffy eyes of her fellow residents and she understood. This was about more than her or the soldiers at the Vault. This was about humanity. They all needed to do this for their own reasons, but at the core of it, they needed to do this because it helped them cling onto their sense of humanity in this cruel, unforgiving world.

Behind her, she heard someone clear their throat and turned to look, relief filling her chest at the sight of the Minutemen.

“Preston! You’re okay!” She gasped, letting out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding since she last spoke. The man looked troubled but offered a placating smile.

“Yeah, I made it out. But Nora, there’s,” He paused. “There was nothing. I searched the terminals three times over. There’s no record of what happened to your family in that Vault.”

She stared behind Preston, past the gates outside the Vault, beyond the darkened sky. She nodded for a moment before clearing her throat, fighting back the sob begging to be heard.

“I understand. Thank you for looking.” Her voice was soft, almost silent against her lips. Had there been any other noise save for the fire crackling behind her, they wouldn’t have heard it at all. But they had. They all heard the timid whimper escape her lips, and understood the desolate anguish she was going through.

Silently, she began to walk up the hill, hoping if she focused on the task of putting the deceased to rest, she might be able to make it until morning before the sobs over took her.  
The others followed behind her, each deep in thought as they were processing their own losses over the past few days.

*

The group spent hours digging the graves, each one lined up around the Vault. The graves remained empty until they were sure they had enough space for everyone. Each body had it’s own place, they would be able to rest with dignity. They all grew tired in the passing hours, their shovels moving slower and slower as morning light began to creep over the horizon.

If anyone had thought it would be easier to put all of the dead into the same grave, they didn’t voice it, a fact which Nora was eternally thankful for. She didn’t think she had the composure in the midst of her exhaustion to refrain for snapping if someone had the gall to recommended it.

Mama Murphy even made her way up to them, though Nora refused to let the old woman help. With a sigh, the old woman agreed, but remained seated near the gate, watching the proceedings.

Once all the graves had been dug, they all stopped. She suddenly felt the weight of the group’s gaze upon her.

Oh, they expect me to say something here.

Her chest suddenly felt tight at the thought of bringing the bodies to their final resting place.

“How about we all take a break?” She offered, seeing the relief spread across the assorted faces. They were exhausted, none of them having slept the previous night. The group dispersed, save for Preston who studied her with prying eyes.

“You’re doing the right thing here, you know.” He offered, walking to where she stood, unwavering as her stare watch the platform of the Vault.

She had to bury her husband. This would be the last time she would see him, ever again. Her last memory a stiff, lifeless body being lowered into the ground mere feet away from the Vault where he had been murdered. It didn’t do him justice. Didn’t give him the honor she knew he deserved, but, she knew she had to do it. Better to rest in his own grave than in a mass tomb alongside their neighbors.

“I know. It’s just-” Shaking her head, she lowered herself to the ground. She couldn’t say the words.

“This means that you have to say goodbye.” He stated flatly, moving to sit next to her.

“Exactly.”

They remained sitting in silence, staring at the open, empty graves surrounding them. She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, watching the Vault mindlessly, but she would guess over an hour if the pain in her hips was anything to go by.

She looked over, analyzing the closet grave to her.

“Do your best to stop me if I try to throw myself into one of these, okay?” She muttered dryly, the statement somewhere between sarcasm and brutal honesty. She braced herself for the concerned comments, the chastising remarks about how there’s still hope or whatever shit he was going to tell her.

They didn’t come. She turned to look at Preston who was staring at the grave in front of him, eyes clouded and introspective, refusing to move.

“I understand the temptation.” He said, his voice apathetic. “But, I’ll promise to stop you, if you promise to stop me, okay?”

She nodded, looking away from her friend, partially relieved he understood and partially troubled by the remark.

“Of course.” She replied, “I wouldn’t let you off that easy. Besides, you’re supposed to help me find my way to Diamond City. You throw yourself in there, you’ll wish you stayed down in that Vault.”

Preston smirked at the dark quip coming from the woman besides him. Nora looked around, noticing the settlers had returned, but she couldn’t tell what they were carrying. As the group got closer, her heart began hammering in her chest.

Bodies. Mangled skeletons long ago picked clean by time and scavengers. She watch silently as the settlers placed her former neighbors in the ground. She pushed herself to stand, unsteady but refusing to fall. She could feel her fingers go numb, panic setting into her stomach.

_Breath in. Breath out._

She forced herself to keep walking, keep moving, toward where the fallen soldier’s lay. Preston followed her lead, going to another soldier laid out before them. They worked quietly, laying each tortured soul to rest, finally at peace, she hoped.

She looked around, trying to see if anyone had gone unnoticed, but found that all the bodies above ground had been placed.

_That just left..._

She gasped, the tightness in her throat increasing as her panic returned, stronger than she could ever have imagined.

_Nate._

She moved to sit on the ground, eyeing the grave next to her with renowned interest. She saw something move next to her. Dogmeat placed his head on her lap, and she buried her hands in his soft brown fur. Preston caught her eye from across the platform, and she knew. He understood.

He spoke to the group standing nearby, who had also been eyeing the empty field with apprehension. He pointed at the Vault’s platform, then toward the PipBoy on his wrist. They nodded, solemnly accepting the task before them.

_It was all too much... you can’t ask these people to go into that hellhole. They’d been through enough, losing 15 of their own in the span of a week._

Just as she was about to stand, Codsworth broke away from the group, floating toward her.

“Mr Garvey requested I stay up here with you to keep you company while they go down and retrieve the residents from the Vault. Is that quite alright mum?” He asked, his eyes whirring between her and the people behind him who were approaching the platform.

“I can’t ask them to do this, I need to tell them - ” She started, despair filling her chest as she saw them climb onto the platform.

“They insisted, mum!” He announced, her head jerking back to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, eye glaring in the direction of the robot, anger suddenly flowing through her.

“Mr. Garvey explained to your friends what happened to, um, what happened to sir.” Codsworth whimpered, the despondent sound seemed so out of place coming from him. “He stated that if they did not want to go down there, they could stop, but that you would not be able to go down yourself. They all agreed to help! Isn’t that so wonderful, mum? Your friends are bringing sir home to us!”

Tears spilled over her checks, as she blinked down at her hands. She looked up in the sky, the sun fully out and in the center of the sky.

“I don’t even know them.” She whispered, looking back toward the ground.

The platform suddenly began creaking, indicating their return. She felt the lump in her throat rise, unsure of what she was supposed to do when they arose. More than anything, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Suddenly, the platform came into view, each of the settlers were now holding someone she had once known. If she hadn't been so distraught, she would be impressed at the group's strength, strong enough to drag all of the bodies out of the Vault.

The world felt like it was spinning, but none of that mattered because she felt herself charging forward toward Preston. In his arms he held the crumpled body of Nate, his dark complexion looking inhumanely pale in the sunlight. It was even more traumatic than it had been in the low lighting of the Vault. A small sound escaped her throat, but she couldn’t even register it.

_Nate's right here, dead. 210 years into the future._

”Do you have anywhere particular you’d like him to be?” He asked, his voice soft with compassion.

_Alive, sitting on our couch, with his arm wrapped around me as I cradle Shaun._

That’s where she would love him to be right now. If only it were possible.

“As far away from this fucking vault as possible.” She startled at the sound of her voice, surprised she was even able to speak given the raging war inside her mind. Preston nodded and began walking toward the edge of the field, to the grave right out side of the gate.

It was the extra one Preston had insisted they dig, despite the fact that there wasn’t an occupant for it.

_He had known._

“You knew I would want him as far away from there as possible.” Her voice cracked, the whisper barely audible. He looked at her and nodded, kneeling to place him in the grave. He paused and looked at her, waiting for approval. She nodded solemnly, forcing her eyes to Nate’s body as he was lowered into the grave.

Preston stood, pausing as he looked down at the man before him. Out of time, the last shard of his life long since faded from the mortal world. Nora moved to kneel next to the grave, emotions spiraling through her, unsure of which one to settle on.

Anger, she decided. The rage began bubbling deep inside her, a promise to make those bastards who destroyed her family and ripped her life from her pay with their own life. She looked back at her friend, standing by the gate, but still keeping a sharp watch on her. She didn’t need words to understand what he was doing.

_Suicide watch. From a respectful distance, because the gentle man is nothing if not compassionate._

She sighed.

“It’s okay Preston. I’m not going to throw myself into the grave with him. I-” she stopped, a sad smile gracing her features. “I made a mental promised to Nate... I'm going to find Shaun, or at least find out what happened to him. I'm going to try to bring Shaun home, either with me or, or... to be with Nate. He deserves to be with his parents.”

The man nodded, turning back to the field behind him. As soon as he was out of sight, she turned to her husband. The young man, once so fully of life and charisma, who believed near fanatically in terrible dad jokes, ever lasting patience, and justice. She felt the tears come quietly, streaming down her face, but she didn’t make a sound. No sound would ever do justice to the heartbreak she was feeling.

“It’s okay baby,” she whispered, closing her eyes and imaging him sitting next to her. “I know you did everything you could to keep him safe. I saw you try to fight off the kidnappers and, I saw the price you paid to keep him safe. I’m gonna find him, he’s still alive, I know he is. I would know if something happened... I would know if our son was dead. I’m going to find him and tell him all about his father, who was better than any superhero in any book... Did you know they still have comic books 210 years into the future? Those horrible ones you would read to me on nights when you could tell I was having a bout of anxiety. Grognak. What a stupid story with way too little clothing, not that I would mind the thought of you dressing up as him for Halloween...”

She paused, silent for what felt like an eternity.

“Would have minded.” She reminded herself, before continuing. “Well let me just tell you, I’ve started collecting them. The comic books... It makes me feel close to you. I’m going to start putting them in Shaun’s room. Maybe he’ll read them one day when he grows up. I’ll tell him all about the terrible voices you’d make and... Baby... I’m so sorry this happened, honey. It should have been me. I should have been holding him... I’m sorry Nate. I love you, but, I think I need to go now, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I’ll fill you in on all the details.”

She stood, slowly looking around the area, spotting the shovel. She began piling the dirt onto his body. She was losing him forever, with each shovel full of dirt she deposited. She could feel herself shaking as the hole was filled, her rage overpowering her despair. After everything she’d already lost, this was the last straw. She wasn’t willing to lay down and take it any longer.

She stopped, the hole where her husband would remain for the rest of eternity, now reduced to a mound of dirt. She looked over her shoulder and the group behind her. While she had been pouring her heart out, they finished burying her neighbors.

She felt guilty for a moment, that these people offered her such kindness, helping her put her neighbors and husband to rest, and she sat blubbering at his side, unable to help.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long-” She stopped as Marcy Long, of all people, put her hand up to stop her.

“Life ain’t perfect out here. But, we’re surviving.” The woman spit out, before turning to leave. She turned to her husband, grabbing his arm. As the pair got further away, Nora heard the woman state “They call this place Sanctuary? Cemetery seems a little more appropriate!”

Nora felt her mouth pull into an empty smile at the cruel comment.

“What a bitch... Shame she’s right.” She looked back at Sturges and Preston, flanked by Dogmeat and Codworth. “Thank you for... For everything. I’ll be in debt to you guys for the rest of my life for this.”

She turned to leave, Dogmeat running to reach her side. She stopped, looking at Preston before continuing.

“The Minutemen, huh? I think I can get behind that. Seems like this world needs a little more kindness.” She turned, Codsworth now at her side, as she walked down the hill. Headed to the only place that meant anything to her anymore.

_Home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore Preston's depression more. It's touched on in the game but the way Bethesda made his character into a joke did him absolutely dirty. I respect that he is a very kind hearted character, much like how I play Sole, so I wanted to give him a little more depth and really do him justice for all that this crazy, over-sympathetic man does. 
> 
> Also, Marcy's comments are from things she says in game.


	6. The Wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I roam from town to town  
> I go through life without a care  
> And I'm as happy as a clown  
> I with my two fists of iron but I'm going nowhere'

Nora could feel the cold permeate her suit, down to her bones. Shivering, she reached her hand out, trying desperately to feel her way around the darkness. Cold. Glass. She could feel the glass in front of her, surrounded by it’s hard metal frame. She forced her eyes open, forced herself to see what she already knew was there.

She was back in the pod - cryopod, the word popped into her mind instantly. She could feel herself push against the glass, her hands turning into fists as she attempted to break free. In front of her was Nate, except he was different from last time. He was still in his pod, but it was full of dirt, only the top of his head visible.

His eyes were open this time, angry and accusatory. She pushed the glass forward, begging it to open, and suddenly she was falling. But she was outside the Vault now, looking around at the empty graves that taunted her. She looked up and saw Nate being dragged toward the Vault by two figures in white Hazmat suits, the platform now just a hole in the ground. Behind the figures was a bald man, a deep scar visible on the side of his face. The figures stopped at the edge of the Vault, turning to the man.

Nate began fighting, screaming. “No! I won’t let you take Shaun!”

_Shaun? Where was Shaun? He was supposed to be with Nate._

She began to fight back tears, trying to run toward him, but she felt strong hands holding her back. She began thrashing, trying desperately to break free from the person’s grasp to no avail.

The man raised his gun, pointed directly at Nate and fired. She screamed as she saw her husband fall back into the Vault.

She could still hear herself screaming, the desperate sound echoing in the remnants of her home. She sat straight up on the couch where she had passed out the previous night, sweat soaking her shirt, her damp hair stuck her face. Running a hand over her face, she eyed the near empty bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table.

She knew better, knew what happened when alcohol and chronic nightmares mixed, but she hadn’t cared last night. Now she was paying for it, the pressure in her head growing stronger.

She’d been in Sanctuary for a little over a week now, helping her neighbors whenever she could. She tried to help Marcy with the crops, hoping maybe she could get the woman to open up, or at the very least soften her harsh personality.

Shortly after their arrival, Nora had heard Jun comforting the woman over the loss of their son. The revelation struck her harder than she would have expected. Of course the woman would be angry and short with everyone, she had just gone through her own traumatic loss. Marcy had been dealing with the despair of the Commonwealth much longer than Nora had, the loss of a child on top of the miserable reality of this life?

She tried to go out of her way to show kindness and sympathy toward the Longs, but after days of trying, her compassion was met with derision alone. She had much preferred helping Sturges with some of the more mechanical or manual projects. He tried to patiently teach her how to build generators and explain the process of how the water purifiers worked, but the man might as well have been trying to teach her Latin while speaking Greek. Still, she was content to sit next to him, handing him tools as he persisted in explaining what he was doing.

There was something familiar about the strange man, the way he spoke reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite place it. The realization had finally dawned on her the previous night.

_Warson._

She thought back to the tall, gangly recruit she had gone through the academy with centuries ago. Warson had grown up in South Carolina, his southern drawl evidence of his country upbringing. Despite the man’s pride for his home, he tried desperately to soften the accent after joining the academy. Standing out wasn’t something you wanted to do, lest you draw the attention of a particularly over-zealous instructor. After one of her fellow recruits had been targeted for the color of her hair tie and was forced to run five extra miles during their already brief lunch period, the lesson became clear.

Fall in line, sit down, and shut up.

The blend of the southern drawl with a pronounced Bostonian accent, was unique in it’s own regard, but fortunately his attempts to assimilate were noticed and he hadn’t incurred the wrath of their instructors much after that. She had never heard anything like it before meeting the eager young recruit and hadn’t heard it since, until Sturges had begun regaling stories of his youth around the campfire.The recognition had needled at her, her anxiety growing as she began to think of her former friend.

A large, furry body jumped up next to her, breaking her from her thoughts of the previous night.

“You know,” she chastised, “I really should talk to you about manners. It’s not polite to launch yourself onto people immediately after they wake up.”

She scratched Dogmeat lazily, eyes scanning the room. Codsworth was nowhere to be seen, the light of day only just creeping into the room. She tried to bring herself to stand, briefly failing before catching herself on the side of the coffee table. The room spun, her vision briefly going blurry as the pressure in her head increased.

_Could kill for some ibuprofen right about now._

She forced herself forward, toward the cans of water on the counter that she had not put there the previous night.

_Codsworth. Of course he knew I'd be dehydrated when I woke up._

A sudden buzzing drew her attention to the back door.

“I wondered when you’d show up.” She offered, sleep still heavy on her tongue. “Thanks for the water, I - Uh, I may have overdone it a bit last night.”

“Of course mum!” The robot chimed, much louder than she appreciated him speaking. “Two centuries underground seems to have lowered your tolerance significantly!”

She smirked, despite the pain in her head. He had a point, who knew what 200 years as a popsicle did for her metabolism. She eyed her pack by the door nervously. The radiation storms and Raider’s just outside Sanctuary had kept her there much longer than she’d anticipated. She had intended to leave for Diamond City immediately after the burial, but it seemed like things kept coming up.

Preston had said it wasn’t safe to leave until the merchants reached the neighborhood, but it was beginning to feel like it would never be safe enough.

“Codsworth, I might be leaving again for a while.” She started, eyeing the can of water with feigned interest. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her friend. Ever since she’d buried Nate, the robot had been much clingier than normal. She had tried to be patient, but her resolve was wearing thin. “I need to go to Diamond City, to try and find Shaun. Preston thinks it’s my best bet.”

“Oh, mum, must you leave so soon? Surely one of your new friends could go to the city and ask around!” He pleaded, voice cracking in a way she had not known was possible. She pitied the robot, cursing his creators for giving him the ability to think and feel. It was cruel to him, to bind his emotions with a never-ending since of duty.

She thought briefly to the case that had scandalized the news, days before the world ended. It wasn’t an uncommon debate, the principle of sentient robots deciding their own fate. But when a Mr Handy model had proudly gone on television, stating they were their own person and wanted their rights as a citizen of the United States, the nation was shook. The debates surrounding the matter raged, the crisis with the Chinese government almost forgotten as neighbors gossiped for weeks about the idea.

Robot rights.

Both she and Nate voiced their support of the idea, much to the chagrin of many of their neighbors. The conversation with Codsworth that night had been awkward, to say the least, but they knew they had to have it. After ensuring that Codsworth understood he was free to leave, if he so pleased, and that while he helped them with many of the chores, they felt he was a member or their family, the robot became nervous and introspective. She remembered the words like she had just heard them seconds before.

'Do you want me to leave, mum?'

The voice had been so small and sad that she almost thought it hadn’t come from him. After reassuring Codsworth that yes, of course they wanted him to stay, but it was his choice, the robot happily stated that he wanted nothing more than to serve his family. She forced herself to look back at the robot, now officially her oldest friend.

“Codsworth, I’d love to stay here with you and Dogmeat,” she paused, sympathy gripping at her heart “But I have to find Shaun, okay? I’m gonna bring him home and we’re gonna be a family again.”

Codsworth looked at the floor, unable to look at her. “I understand, mum. Do you want me to come with you?”

The question surprised her as her mouth hung agape. She hadn’t even thought about bringing Codsworth, not after he told her about the last time he tried to venture out.

_No, it wasn’t fair to him to drag him along to see the horrors of this wasteland._

“I would really appreciate it if you could stay here. Maybe you can help our new friends. I’m sure they could really use the support.” She offered, the robot looked up at her before scanning the scene outside the door.

“Certainly, mum! Anything to be of assistance!” He answered, immediately going to where Sturges had begun cooking down the street. She looked back at Dogmeat who was still laid out on the couch, large brown eyes watching her.

“I’d tell you to stay put here, but I have the feeling you’d follow me anyway.” She offered, winking at the dog. Dogmeat cocked his head like he understood her, then stood up, stopping next to the door where her bag sat.

She briefly wondered, not for the first time, if this dog knew what she was saying. She laughed, chastising herself for entertaining the thought. He was a dog, surely he didn’t understand the English language.

“Okay, okay. Let me get cleaned up first, then we’ll head out, okay boy?”

Dogmeat stared back at her, before laying back down in the doorway.

Maybe she was losing it, she thought as she meandered to the bathroom, After everything she’d been through, it wouldn’t necessarily be a surprise if she finally went crazy.

*

She saw Preston near the entrance of the neighborhood talking to a rough looking woman, skin tanned from extensive time spent in the sun, standing next to a two headed cow.

_Brahmin, they had called them._

They stood at the entrance to the bridge, now fortified with freshly built guard posts and machine gun turrets. As she approached the pair, Preston looked up, offering a soft smile despite the worry condemning his face.

“Hey, Carla finally made it.” He offered, indicating the woman standing next to him. “She said the immediate area is safe from some of the more unsavory creatures that had been hanging about.”

“Trashcan Carla” The woman stated, offering Nora her hand which she politely shook. “Preston here is too polite to call me that, but that’s what everyone else knows me by.”

“Nora. Pleased to meet you.” She offered, the polite greeting felt so foreign to her, given the state of their surroundings, but her manners were far too ingrained to change anything now. Trashcan Carla eyed her suspiciously, looking down to her Vault suit, now covered with rudimentary leather armor.

“Didn’t know Vault dwellers were so damn polite.” She muttered, turning back to Preston. “Anyway, Tenpines Bluff stated they’re at imminent risk and asked for some help. Something about Raiders, I don’t know. I know there’s not a lot of Minutemen left, but I agreed to pass along the message.”

“Thank you, Carla. I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, nodding to her as she led her Brahmin further into the neighborhood.

“What’s going on?” Nora asked, watching the man's conflicted expression.

“That’s the second settlement I’ve been told needs help today. I was told Oberland Station had a ghoul problem about an hour ago. I was just on my way there to help, but...” He stopped, eyes locked on hers. She recognized the expression. He wanted to be told what to do, didn’t want to have to make the decision between the two settlements, condemning one to perish.

“I can go to one of them, I was headed out to the city, anyway.” She offered, kicking herself for accepting even more responsibility. But it wasn’t like she could just refuse to protect civilians. She formed her lips into a terse smile, hiding her growing annoyance.

Preston looked at her, silently processing the offer. Relief briefly crossed over his face, nearly imperceptible behind his controlled expression to anyone who wasn't specifically looking for it.

“I would really appreciate that, thank you. If you want, I can meet up with you there once I’m finished at Oberland.” He paused, looking at the ground, eyebrows furrowed in thought. “If anything, at least protect the settlement from immediate harm, and wait before striking at the Raider's base.”

“Of course. I won’t go running in alone.” She lied, setting her face into a charming smile. Preston relaxed immediately, foolishly believing her promise and Nora tried to quell the sick sense of pleasure she felt at deceiving her friend.

_Not like I wasn't always an ass..._

It wasn’t a complete lie, she convinced herself as she walked, Sanctuary growing smaller behind her. Dogmeat was with her, so she wasn’t really going anywhere alone, per se.

She checked her PipBoy, making sure she was going in the right direction. A two hour walk East, he had told her, just south of the old military satellite. She tried to remember the name of the place, but couldn’t quite find it, the words remaining at the tip of her tongue.

Maybe she’d stop by on her way, check for any ammunition or better weapons, especially if she was going up against raiders. She looked down to her shotgun, uncertain if she made the right decision leaving the rifle in Sanctuary.

“No point in wondering now, huh Dogmeat?” She asked, looking down to her companion traveling besides her. She continued walking, her thoughts running rampant as she scanned the wooded area ahead. The ache in her head had begun to dull as she walked, a combination of the fresh air and her liver working over-time to detox the alcohol from her bloodstream.

She was so lost in thought she almost didn’t realize when she reached the settlement. It was exactly like Preston described. A small farm and a single building, enclosed by a gate that was surely only effective as an aesthetic. She was convinced she could knock it over with a well aimed cough.

She saw a man kneeling near the edge of the property, tending to the plant in front of him, pulling off a round, red item. It reminded her of a tomato, but as the man tossed the item into the basket, it made a loud thunk. Surely no sane person would throw a tomato with that sort of force, the delicate skin would surely rip. She thought about asking him what it was, but thought better of it for the time being.

She was here to do a job, not investigate the produce mutations resulting from nuclear fallout. She would ask later, after she took care of the raiders.

“Excuse me, sir.” She started, the man jumped, turning to her with a harsh expression.

“Listen, we don’t want any problems! Get out of here!” The man yelled, his voice wavering, the anger undercut by fear.

“Settle down. I’m with the Minutemen. I thought someone actually needed some help around here.” She snapped back, immediately annoyed at the undue aggression.

“You’re with the Minutemen?” He paused, eyeing her suit quizzically. “I didn’t think you guys actually existed anymore. Not after Quincy.”

_Ah, right... Quincy._

She remembered Preston telling her about the massacre. No wonder the man was so aggressive, he may have asked for help, but he clearly didn’t think anyone would come. She groaned, once again she was the asshole, intimidating some poor man trying to save his family.

“We’re rebuilding the Minutemen, from the ground up,” She reassured as the man’s face began to relax. “We’re the good guys again. So tell me, what seems to be the problem?”

The man began his story, filling her in about the Raiders who had been slowly taking what little food they had, intimidating them into complying. She frowned and he continued. The Raiders had even threatened to do unthinkable things to his family if he fought back. She felt her anger threatening to come to the surface once more.

“I’ll take care of them for you.” She said, placing a gentle hand on the mans shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about.”

The man smiled, relief filled his face as he looked back toward his wife who was standing behind him.

“Thank you. I, I never believed you would come.” He admitted, eyes locking onto her own and she offered a small smile.

“I’ll be back in a couple days, until then, if you see them, run. I don’t need you guys to try and fight them off.” She instructed firmly, and air of authority to her voice. She wouldn’t let these civilians get hurt, her promise from years before at the forefront of her mind.

With a nod so slight it was almost missed, she started off, toward the Corvega Assembly Plant.

“How hard can it be to take down a few Raiders?” she stated, looking at Dogmeat expectantly. “Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be too bad either, boy.”

  
*

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She whispered, pressed flat against the wall, deep inside the decrepit automobile factory. She looked down at Dogmeat, growling behind her. The first few Raiders had been easy enough to pick off from a distance, a fact only compounded by their complete lack of organization. She watched patiently, smirking as she would draw them out into the open before carefully firing the final shots at their chest.

Even the ones up on the scaffolding, pacing aggressively as they cursed at her were simple to sneak up on. She thought about what idiots they were, yelling and giving away their position, allowing her to quietly creep up from behind and get the jump on them.

That was, until, she actually got inside the factory. What she had assumed would be a handful of Raiders inside was actually closer to a whole neighborhood. She saw what she guessed to be a dozen, mulling about the factory floor. Who knew how many more were inside along with them.

Growling softly next to her was Dogmeat. He had been a big help distracting the other Raiders while she’d sneak up behind them, but the last Raider he took on had struck him with such ferocity, Nora was sure he was dead.

As if by some miracle, Dogmeat got back up, seemingly no worse for wear. She looked at the dog cautiously, as they pressed against the wall.

“Stay here. Don’t move from this spot.” She ordered, unwilling to allow any more harm to come to her loyal companion. She shot forward, sneaking around the bookcase in front of her.

Just as she turned the corner, she saw two more Raiders in the hall. Two quick shots later, she continued on. A pit of anxiety was forming in her stomach, thinking about the bodies laying in and around the building.

She wondered if she was doing the right thing, the anxious feeling growing stronger as she trekked deeper into the factory.

Sure, the Raiders had threatened to do unspeakable things to the settlers. She knew with complete certainty that if she did not take the Raiders out, the small family would face extensive torture and death. She convinced herself that this was the only option, continuing through the scattered rooms.

After she took down yet another Raider, who had fortunately had his back to her, she heard voices, whispering in the next room.

“This feels like a fucking trap.” An angry male voice snapped, “Boss said he was all excited to be getting some Vault kid Crick found, but it’s been a week and they’ve yet to show up.”

Nora felt her blood run cold.

_It couldn’t be... could it?_

“Relax man, you been hitting the chems at work again?” Another voice replied lazily. “Boss said this kid will fetch a pretty penny for us, then we can sell 'em. I know a few Gunners would probably like a new toy to play with. Their last ones aren’t putting up much of a fight anymore, apparently.”

She could feel the rage bubbling inside her chest, consuming her whole body as her mind went blank, all she could see was red. She charged into the next room, locking eyes with the two despicable men before her. Without thinking, she felt herself swing her pistol, hitting the closest one with the butt of her gun. She cringed at the sound, watching the man’s body drop, but she didn’t need to check to see that the hit had done what it needed to do.

She spun, facing the next Raider, eyes wide with a burning rage unlike any the man had seen before. He was quicker, blocking her first strike, sending the shotgun flying from her hands. She didn’t stop. She shoved the man back into the wall, grabbing the tire iron his colleague had dropped.

One quick movement and the Raider joined his partner on the floor, crumpling in on himself. Picking up her pistol, she didn’t so much as look back as she fled the room. She entered a much larger room and easily picked off a few more of the figures ambling around lazily. All she could think about was making sure none of these monsters would be able to hurt anyone ever again. 

Nora snuck around the room, sticking to the corners and shadows as best she could. The few Raiders who'd had the misfortune of crossing her path were dealt with deftly, dropping with more than a few rounds disposed of inside them.

It was then that she saw the final Raider standing in some sort of control booth. His armor was cleaner and much thicker than any of the others had been.

Their leader, that much was evident from his attire and the way he held himself.

She snuck under the railing, leading to the control room, pulling herself up over the ledge. She turned the corner, placing the barrel of the shotgun against the back of the man’s head.

“So tell me, you motherfucker, where’s the kid?” She snarled, her voice firm and threatening. The man froze, raising his hands to the side of his head. She almost laughed at the motion, a reminder of the pose she’d seen dozens criminal hold prior to their arrest.

“So you’re the bitch who’s been killing off my men.” He stated back, careful not to let emotion permeate his tone. She said nothing, moving her ankle to the mans, ready to sweep it out from under him in a moments notice. “Tell me what do you want with the girl? I can get you a good price-”

_The girl._

In a moment, he turned, knocking the pistol away from her. She was unarmed, yet again, and didn't think she could unholster her pistol in time. Fortunately for her, her foot caught under his, sending him flat on his back. She pounced on him instantly, her fists pummeling the sides of his face.

“Where.” Hit.

“The fuck.” Hit.

“Is.” Hit.

“The child.” She growled, positively feral at the implication that she would ever buy a child like they were some sort of property.

The man gasped, trying desperately to fight her off. It might have worked any other day, but Nora was fueled by adrenaline, a profound lack of self preservation, and white-hot rage.

“She’s gone-” He gasped, as her elbow came down to his neck, coughing violently. “She -”

“Gone where?” She asked, striking him in his raised arm as he found to block. The man moved from where she had him pinned right as she felt a sharp pain in her side, and saw the glisten of a blade in the corner of her eye. She turned, bending the Raider’s wrist, forcing him to drop the knife, which clattered to the ground. She shoved it away. “ _Where?_ ”

“Killed.” He laughed, still coughing, spit tainted with blood. “My guys got a little too excited and -”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the thought, the bullet hole in his head, silencing him for the rest of eternity. She hadn’t even felt herself unholster the pistol, but there it was, still warm in her hand.

The resounding silence was oppressive, pulling at her insides. She felt like she was suffocating, she turned from the man before her and ran. Ran with all of her might, she needed to get out of the factory, away from the massacre. She felt herself push the doors open, the muggy air smacking into her in one felt swoop. She ran, ignoring the sound of barking behind her. She ran all the way the way to the bridge before a loose stone caught under her foot, forcing her forward onto her forearms. She could feel herself gasping for air, panicked at what had just happened, Dogmeat still running after her.

She had foolishly hoped that those monsters knew where Shaun was. Just the mention of a child, especially a child from a Vault, and she had lost her mind. Tears wanted to spill over, but she forced her eyes closed.

“Not here, not now,” she told herself, slowing her breathing. “I had to do it. Those men, those monsters, they were going to torture and kill that family. They needed to die, they were bad men and women.”

Dogmeat looked at her, his eyes wide and inquisitive. She knew he didn’t care about her morality crisis, but saying it out loud helped reassure herself that she was right. But the way she had brutalized that last Raider. She took a slow breath in, forcing herself to think about the exchange.

“I was trying to save the girl, Dogmeat. The second he said girl, I knew it wasn’t Shaun, obviously, but....” She paused. “They were going to sell her to be tortured. If there was a chance I could save her, I _had_ to.”

The silence between them lingered and for the first time Nora wished Dogmeat could answer her. Normally soothed by his lack of criticism, she would have given anything to be told she had done the right thing.

She thought through her next steps, adrenaline beginning to fade away. She should return to the settlers to let them know they were okay, but she didn’t want to see them again, not in her current state. The settler’s were safe and plus Preston would be on his way to them soon, but she should get word to her friend that she was okay.

_But Shaun couldn't wait. Who knew what sort of company he had around him? What if he was with some Raiders, eager to sell him into slavery for a good offer?_

Nora decided that she should go to Diamond City, Preston would figure it out. She pushed her self up, her side suddenly searing with the full brunt of the pain where the knife had wounded her. She knew she’d have to treat it sooner or later, but with limited supplies she wasn’t sure if it would do more harm then good. At least with the leather chest piece on, the wound should have constant pressure, hopefully stymieing the bleeding.

She checked her PipBoy, checking for which direction to go. As she began walking, the silence continued to stalk her. For the first time since leaving Sanctuary, she longed for Codsworth’s incessant chatter, uncomfortable with the silence that was forcing her to be alone with her thoughts.

She looked up at a passing merchant, offering a gentle wave before continuing toward the city.

“Doesn’t this thing have radio?” She mumble aloud, fiddling with the device. She flipped open to the available stations, surprised to see the first listing. “Diamond City Radio, huh? Must mean we’re getting close.”

She clicked to the station, the beginning notes of Tex Beneke’s “A Wonderful Guy” filling the air.

“Oh, come on,” She groaned, the song worse that the lingering silence. “This shit wasn’t even good BEFORE the bombs. Of all things, this survives? Is no one making new music?”

She stopped, rolling her eyes, determined to find another station. Anything would be better than that garbage. She paused.

Military Frequency AF95.

_Shouldn’t military frequencies be encrypted?_

Curiosity getting the better of her, she clicked on it.

_'This is Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we're running low on supplies. We're requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station. Automated message repeating...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the thing, I have a hard time imagining Sole doing all the Minutemen quests after coming out of the Vault for nothing but the kindness in their heart. 
> 
> The first thing in-game that Preston does is send this stranger to do his dirty work, and it never sat right with me.
> 
> I'd like to think there was more going on that made him send Sole to Tenpines Bluff. Her sense of protection over the people of the Commonwealth seemed more first responder-like than lawyer or militaristic.


	7. Worry Worry Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'When it comes to gettin' chummy  
> I'll admit i'm quite a dummy  
> Worry, Worry, Worry  
> Why always me'

_There were people at the police station, needing help._

Nora stood, her gaze unwavering as it stared transfixed on the PipBoy, as the message began again, repeating itself. 

A thousand questions began racing through her mind as she listened to the message once more.

_What the fuck is a scribe?_

_They said they were at the police department and spoke like they had some sort of military or law enforcement background._

_Were there still police departments now? The Minutemen hadn’t mention anything about that..._

_Where the fuck is Cambridge Police Station from here?_

The signal had appeared as she started traveling south, toward the faint outline of a city, so she reasoned that the people were probably somewhere in that direction. She tried to wrack her brain and remember where exactly Cambridge had been in reference to Sanctuary.

As the pieces began forming together in her head, answering all of her questions in a matter of milliseconds, she took off running toward the outline of the city, the buildings growing bigger as she sped past.

Nora could hear the sound of gunfire once more, for once a welcome indication that she was headed the right way. In a desperate attempt to locate the firefight, she kept blindly turning down random streets and alleyways. After quickly rounding a corner, a large barricade came into view, the wall surrounded by skinny, grey, humanoid-looking creatures.

The first thought that came to her mind was zombies, but she knew that surely couldn’t be the case. Preston had mentioned something earlier about some sort of strange creatures, but she could hardly remember what he had said. The monsters were screaming, a wet guttural sound, and running towards the sound of the gunshots. She could hear voices yelling as she got closer, but she was unable to make out what they were saying with any semblance of clarity. She briefly turned back to check on her furry companion, and was relieved to see Dogmeat still galloping eagerly behind her.

“Hey boy, let’s kill go some fucking zombies.” She called before pulling her shotgun from her back and aiming at the creature closest to her. One by one, the creatures begin falling, collapsing with a shudder before laying deathly still.

Through the barricade she observed a figure in Power Armor at the bottom of the stairs, fending off their own mob of the monsters.

_Military? That's a good sign._

She quickly scanned the scene, taking note of the pertinent facts. Behind the armored figure, she saw two people collapsed on the steps, the lone soldier their only chance at survival. Nora turned, facing the creature running toward her, firing one shot. Another one ran toward her, before falling to the ground, another shot. Between herself and the armored stranger, they were able to stop the creatures from ascending the stairs to the injured people behind them. She watched with a pleased smirk as Dogmeat assisted her, pulling many of the creatures to the ground, just long enough for her to fire their fatal shots.

“For the Brotherhood!” the man yelled as the final creature dropped to the ground.

_Yeah, okay then... What the fuck was that supposed to mean?_

She eyed the back of the man’s armor skeptically as they both scanned the area for several more moments before lowering their weapons simultaneously, content that the immediate danger was over.

She paused, noticing his movements which directly mirrored her own from the corner of her eye. She turned to look at the soldier, watching as he turned toward her in the same moment. A blush crept up to her cheeks, as she observed their identical movement, the situation was, well, quite frankly awkward. It almost felt like he was copying her, or she him.

It reminded her of the mortifying time she'd ran almost directly into her Chief, quickly trying to step out of the imposing woman's way only to have her step in the same direction. The exchange had went on far longer than necessary, both of the women trying to step to the side and let the other pass.

Shaking the idea from her mind, Nora looked up at the man towering above her as he evaluated her carefully. The man looked like a soldier, his firm jaw set, exemplifying the clear control he had over his expression. His dark brown eyes were cautiously watching her, but also scanning the area behind her.

Hyper-vigilance _,_ she recognized, his haunted eyes mirroring her own. His dark stubble nearly covered a deep scar on his left cheek extending down to his lip, but did nothing to obfuscate the long mark through his right eyebrow and down the side of his face.

_So a soldier, one who’d been in his share of fights, judging by his scars and how he carried himself._

She recognized suddenly, that she considered him attractive, his strong, masculine features complimenting the steeled resolve behind his eyes. Nora blinked the thought away, pushing it into the dark corners of her mind. The guilt of finding anyone attractive, merely a week after burying her husband, ripped at her insides. The thought hadn’t been impure in the least, it was purely an objective observation, but it still sent a tidal wave of shame through her body.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilian, but what’s your business here?” The man asked flatly. She observed that he was still on edge and tried not to bristle against being called a civilian.

“I’m just trying to survive out here, like everyone else.” She answered, deciding to stow the sarcasm, at least for a bit, until she could get a feel for the man’s sense of humor, which she suspected was more than likely non-existent. He nodded, eyes flicking down to the PipBoy on her wrist before meeting hers again.

“The way you charged in and engaged those ferals, I find that a bit difficult to believe.” He replied.

_Ferals. That's what Preston was talking about this morning, feral ghouls_ ,

She quickly looked back toward the ghouls' corpses as she processed the man's words, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of her lip.

_Did this over-sized military man just offer me a compliment? After calling me a civilian, none the less?_

“Are you from a local settlement?” He continued watching her, his gaze burning with questions. 

Nora paused, pursing her lips at the question, trying to determine how much to tell the stranger. She already regretted having revealed so much of her past to Preston, but surely this was different. This man actually seemed like he knew what he was doing and combined with the clear air about himself that screamed military, she felt strangely comforted by his presence. She glanced down at her Vault suit, then back up to the man in front of her.

_What good would it be to lie?_ _The blue Vault suit and PipBoy is as good as an announcement._

“I’m... From Vault 111.” She admitted, watching the look of surprise break through his reserved facade.

“You’re - You’re a Vault dweller?” He asked, eyes expanding with surprise. She could feel herself stiffen at the question, the term irritating her more than she expected. “Most people wouldn't admit to such a thing. I appreciate your honesty.”

_What the fuck was that supposed to mean?_

She remembered the way Marcy had said Vault dweller, spitting the term out like it was a crime against the Commonwealth. In a flash, she felt her anger rise, far too close to the surface to risk dignifying a response to the statement. A moment later, the man’s neutral expression returned, recomposed into his professional demeanor.

"If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult.” He continued cautiously, gauging her previous reaction as she felt her face softening. A mission gone awry was something she could understand. “Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."

_Did Mr. Move-Along-Civilian just ask me for help?_

Nora found herself amused at the idea, a wry smile breaking across her face as she raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, she felt thoroughly excited at the opportunity to be a part of a team again. The man reminded her so much of her old Sergeant, composed and in control, but not too proud to ask for help. She knew that there probably was no such thing as a functional legal system anymore, but standing on the front stairs of an old police station made her long for the camaraderie and greater sense of purpose. Nora wondered who these people were, with much of their behavior mirroring that of her former squad mates.

“I'll continue to help, but you owe me an explanation first.” She replied evenly, trying to ascertain if the strange group of people were worth getting involved with.

She listened carefully as the man, Paladin Danse, started his speech about the Brotherhood of Steel and their fight against technology. The more he spoke, the more questions she had, trying to wrap her mind around the strange group’s goal. She shot her gaze to the other two members of his team, still seated on the steps.

_What a strange group of people, They operated like a military outfit but clung to names reminiscent of Medieval folklore._

While she could admit their goal seemed sound, keeping technology from those who wish to abuse it, they thought of a militaristic group having exclusive control over any number of weapons made her uneasy.

But Nora's mind also flashed back to the Vault, recalling the unscrupulous scientists who had been more than happy to experiment on her and her family, eager to utilize their extensive technology to manipulate humanity for their own purpose, like lab rats. Recalling everything Preston had told her he’d found on those terminals, her anger only grew with each passing second. She figured that if the group wanted to keep people from abusing technology and victimizing more innocent people like her family and neighbors, she was more than willing to help them. At the very least, they seemed to be capable of restoring some sense of order to the nuclear wasteland.

Besides, she reasoned, it was just one mission to help them find some part for their radio so they could get back to their team who they’d been separated from, which was something she could understand completely. The terror of being lost, far away from your squad, only hoping they’d find you before your time ran out.

“Your cause seems noble. I’ll help you guys in any way I can, sir.” She replied instantly, immediately feeling more confidant, just like she had when she was back in the field.

A small smile rose to Danse’s face and he began looking at her with something much kinder. The man looked far gentler than she expected. With a start, she realized he was looking at her with respect, the same way she had looked at her fellow officers when she was impressed with them in the field. A warm feeling of pride rose in her chest at his approval.

“I’m pleased that you agree.” He replied, his tone notably warmer than she had heard it previously. “Feel free to head inside the police station and restock, then we can head out.”

“Yes, sir.” She answered automatically, following Paladin Danse inside.

A small smile ate at her lips when he turned away, struck by the irony. She was more than likely the last living cop in the entire country, and she had to be officially invited into the police station.

*

Despite it’s age, the police station looked to be in relatively good condition, compared to the other building she’d seen thus far.

She observed the pair walking toward the far wall. The woman, Scribe Haylen, had the man, Knight Rhys, propped against her as she helped him into a seated position on the floor. Rhys shot Nora a glare that, had he not looked so pained, might have had some sort of intimidating impact on her. It did annoy her at the very least, which she knew was probably what the asshole was going for.

“All right big guy, let’s go.” Haylen stated, removing Rhys’ arm from around her neck.

“Yeah, yeah...” He grumbled, grunting as his arm dropped to his side. “I’m coming.”

Haylen smirked at him, her eyebrows drawn down in concern as she turned away toward a medical box, collecting supplies for her compatriot as he held his side, groaning under his breath.

“So are you gonna patch me up, or what?” Rhys asked, his playful tone sounding forced. Haylen sighed before returning to the soldier, kneeling back at his side.

“I don't know, your prognosis looks pretty grim.” The woman began, a sly smirk teasing at her lips. “Might be more humane to just take you out back and shoot you.”

Nora felt herself smile at the exchange, remembering her own sarcastic quips with her fellow officers. As she watch the pair, she could feel herself relaxing, the situation was the most familiar and comforting thing she'd experienced since dragging herself out of the vault. Scanning the remainder of the lobby, she noticed that the Paladin was absent, apparently slipping away to allow her time to recuperate. 

“You’re all heart, doc.” Rhys quipped back, wincing as the scribe began treating him.

In the far corner, she spotted a bathroom, not hearing Haylen’s reply as she slipped away to tend to her own wound, which had begun sending aches of pain up her side. She had once again forgotten about the injury in the midst of the fire fight, adrenaline masking it's severity. At lease she had someplace secure to check it, she thought, instead of in the middle of the street. She figured the police station was probably significantly cleaner than Corvega had been anyway.

She pulled out her medical bag and got to work. As she re-bandaged herself, she thought briefly to the scribe and knight, their comfortable flirtation obviously covering up something deeper and wondered exactly how much fun it would be to taunt the pair.

*

  
Danse regarded the strange Vault woman with a fierce curiosity. Just when he had been certain he and his team were beyond help with the number of ghouls that were continuing to charge from behind the barricade and Rhys already serious wounded, she threw herself into the firefight with nothing more than a shotgun and an eager mutt at her heels.

He paused where he was pacing on the front steps, his eyes focusing on the pile of dead ghouls littered around the courtyard, reflecting on his thought of how the mysterious stranger had skillfully moved through the hoard.

There was something familiar about the woman’s movements, but he couldn’t place where he recognized them from. Her movements were tactical, he thought, as much as she threw herself into the fight, she had done it carefully. When he moved, she moved in an equal way, covering him from potential exposure to danger. He wondered if she had done so instinctively, it seemed too natural for it to have been a thought out tactical move.

It was something the Brotherhood instilled in all their soldiers from the first day of their training, an unconscious awareness of your partner until it becomes second nature. He frowned, the realization providing more questions than answers. Her attacks had been more conservative or defensive than his own, not the brash Brotherhood invincibility he was accustomed to with the comfort of the Power Armor to protect him. 

She had been almost sneaky in her movements, mirroring some of the careful tactics he had seen employed by the mercenaries back in Rivet City. Danse stopped, worried that he made the wrong decision asking for her help. He immediately wondered if he had just invited a mercenary to accompany him on his next mission, the thought filling him with dread.

_Of all missions to invite a strange civilian on, it’s this one..._

Danse cursed at himself for being so reckless. Their impending mission was the squad's last hope to get word back to their brothers and sisters in the Capitol. Their last chance to survive. For all he knew this woman would shoot him in the back the second she no longer found him useful.

_Why would a Vault dweller agree to help the Brotherhood without the guarantee of compensation?_

He thought back to her face as she admitted she was a Vault dweller. Given her strange behavior, he would have almost been convinced she was a mercenary who had stripped the suit and PipBoy from one of her victims, but the look on her face when he asked her about her origin had dissipated that concern.

The woman had hardened her expression at the question, her eyes cold as she pursed her lips at him. She had been furious at his questions, like he had insulted her character. But then again, there was a look in her eyes much like his own. He noticed that the entire time they had been speaking, she was constantly scanning her surroundings. This wasn’t uncommon in the Brotherhood as the importance of remaining vigilant was paramount.

Danse wasn’t intending to invite the woman to accompany him to ArcJet, the words left his mouth before he had time to consider them. That wasn’t like him at all, he took pride in his ability to carefully consider the implications of what he was going to say before speaking. However, the second he asked, the woman smiled, her face changing into a look of amusement. He didn’t think it was a particularly funny situation and what humor she took in it he couldn’t understand.

The more he had begun to explain the situation, the more the woman had softened, offering a sympathetic smile when she agreed to help, as if she understood their position. As soon as she had agreed to help, she showed him respect immediately, despite the fact that she did not need to address him so formerly. She wasn’t his charge, but chose to, regardless.

No, he decided, he made a good decision by asking the woman to accompany him to ArcJet, even if she was likely a mercenary. By all accounts she seemed respectful and talented in a fight, despite the fact that some of her behavior remained a mystery to him. Besides, it wasn’t like he could bring Rhys or Haylen along with him given their extensive injuries.

It was one mission, then he was certain the woman would be on her way, probably after stealing something from the police station. Fortunately, he had the forethought to lock up anything truly valuable.

With a short nod to himself, he moved toward the door, ready to complete the mission.

*

Nora cursed as she pulled her leather armor back over her suit. Apparently the Raider cut her much deeper than she’d initially thought, but her assumption had been right that the armor would compress the wound until she could treat it.

Fortunately the gauze was doing wonders to stop the bleeding and if she really needed to, she could always use one of the stimpaks that she had stashed in her bag. She wasn’t particularly fond of needles and she had been apprehensive of the medication when it was first introduced to consumers. While some of her fellow officers had sworn by the efficacy of the stuff, she was more than a little skeptical.

She bent down, tying her boot back up, wincing as the armor pushed into her side. After quickly straightened herself, Nora only took a moment to check the mirror before returning to the lobby. She didn’t want to see the face looking back at her, she just wanted to get the stupid mission over with so she could get some rest. The afternoon was quickly turning to night and she expected it to be dark soon. She still had to get word back to Preston as soon as possible, the poor guy was probably worried sick.

Upon her return to the lobby, she noticed Rhys was now seated in a chair, typing away on a terminal in the corner. He glared at her as she entered, his face pulled into a frown. Nora felt herself roll her eyes, his weak attempts at intimidation doing more to annoy her than anything.

Haylen was organizing supplies at the front desk and cataloging them, documenting it all on a clipboard. The squire looked up at her with a kind smile. Nora wondered what the woman saw in her colleague, who by all accounts, seemed like a miserable bastard.

“I can’t tell you how thankful we are for your help. Not just with the ghouls, but with the transmitter as well.” The woman gushed, he delicate face filled with excitement. Nora felt herself soften, the woman’s kindness a welcome contrast from her partner’s sour mood. Rhys scoffed from the corner, muttering something under his breath far too faint for her to hear.

“I’m happy to help, honestly. No offense, but neither of you look like you’re in fighting shape at the moment.” She reassured the scribe, as a booming sound came from the entrance behind her, turning just in time to see the paladin make his way through the door.

“Are you ready to move out?” Danse asked and she heard an element of excitement in his deep voice. Eager for the mission, she recognized.

“Ready when you are, sir.” She answered firmly, causing the man to offer her a polite smile at the formality. He nodded, before looking back toward his team.

“Rhys, once you're on your feet, I want you to make certain that the perimeter is secure.” He instructed the knight, turning to Haylen.

“I’m on it, sir.” Rhys answered, trying to force himself up from his seat, before squinting his eyes at Nora.

“Haylen, try to look after him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” Danse stated, a softer tone in his voice. Haylen chucked briefly.

“I can try, but you know he can be about as agreeable as a Deathclaw in heat when he’s injured.” The scribe joked, shooting a cautious glance toward Rhys.

“That’s unfair to the Deathclaw, Scribe Haylen.” Danse retorted calmly, a smirk teasing at his lips. Nora chuckled to herself at the exchange, she had not expected the paladin to have a sense of humor, much less a dry, sarcastic one to rival her own.

“Ad Victorium, sir, ma’am. Good luck to you both.” The scribe answered, tapping her chest in salute.

“Seriously?” Rhys groaned from the desk, shooting Nora a look that could kill a lesser woman. “She won’t even know what it means! This is a fucking joke.”

“You’re right.” Nora spoke up, calmly cocking her head at the soldier, placing her free hand on her hip. As much as she knew she _shouldn't_ antagonize the guy, she couldn't stop herself from pressing his buttons. “My father was more of a ‘De oppresso liber’ sort of fella, but I get the sentiment here. Now, if you’re finished with your temper tantrum, I have somewhere to be, unless you have something else you feel the need to say to me.”

She continued to stare at the knight, her eyes fierce and unrelenting. His mouth sat agape at her unexpected ferocity. Behind her, she heard Haylen clear her throat before returning to her cataloging, the sound of a pencil against paper the only noise filling the lobby.

Danse eyed the pair in front of him cautiously. The last of his loyal Knights pitted against the strange woman who saved them all from probable death, claiming she expected nothing in return. Part of him wanted to chastise the woman for showing such disrespect to Rhys, but he knew the man had been silently antagonizing her since she arrived and given that no one had ever managed to render the knight speechless before, he said nothing. It wasn't his fight to bear.

“I didn’t think so.” Nora stated, turning to exit the police station before calling behind her. “You two crazy kids stay out of trouble, don’t think I haven’t seen you making eyes at each other all evening.”

The front door closed with a bang, the echo the only sound to break the tension. Danse looked at Haylen who had turned a deep shade of crimson, her eyes fixed on the sheet of paper in front of her. Rhys, on the other hand, looked like all the color had drained from his body. Noticing his superior’s eyes on him, Rhys jumped up, catching himself on the desk before he stumbled.

“Sir, you can’t let her talk to us like that!” He demanded, anger filling his eyes. Danse squinted at the other man quizzically, fighting the smirk that was trying to break his composure.

“Well, Knight Rhys, I would be happy to talk to her about the comment if I disagreed with her analysis. You have been giving her the cold shoulder since she arrived, offering not so much as a thank you for her putting her life at risk to help us.” Danse countered, watching the look of guilt cross Rhys’ face. "I would caution you to remember your place before telling a superior officer what they can and can't do."

“I apologize sir, I was out of line.” Rhys responded weakly, returning to his seat in front of the terminal.

Danse offered Haylen a final nod before turning toward the door of the police station.

_This was going to be one hell of an interesting mission_ , he thought to himself as he pushed the door open, into the waiting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation between Haylen in Rhys is canon, I regret to admit I missed it the first few play throughs bc I was so interested in the objectives.


	8. Rocket 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Stand by, stand by  
> The rocket is ready to fly!'

Upon hearing the sound of the door open, Nora looked up from where she had been leaning against the front of the station, Dogmeat sitting at her feet. Danse exited, shooting her a quick glance before turning to look down toward the dog.

"You didn't have to leave him outside, you know." He offered, watching the dog with a curious expression. 

"I guess he felt the need to stand guard, considering your guys are out of commission." She smarted back with a shurg, a coy smile on her lips as she winked at Dogmeat. "He knew were he was needed."

“I supposed you intend to bring your pet along with us on the mission?” He asked with a frown. “You know combat situations are not ideal for animals. His presence could jeopardize this operation.”

She rolled her eye at the statement, looking down affectionately where Dogmeat was sitting. Nora knew there was no way in hell she was leaving her dog here while she gallivanted off into the Commonwealth with some strange man in Power Armor.

The blatant motion of disrespect clearly shocked Danse and Nora noticed immediately. Considering she had been so respectful toward him in their previous conversations, it was obvious the change unnerved him.

“Listen, I appreciate the concern, I do.” She acquiesced, looking back up to meet his eyes. “But trust me when I say this, Dogmeat can hold his own in a fight. Besides, he’s his own dog, he would follow us anyway.”

Danse raised his eyebrow, a look of amusement removing any trace of the frown he had been previously sporting. “You named your dog Dogmeat? That’s... Unconventional. Hopefully, the mission shouldn’t necessitate that.”

Nora could feel her eyes widen at the comment, unsure how to respond. The statement was lacking of any indication of humor, stated plainly without a hint of inflection, but the look on Danse’s face said otherwise, a faint smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“Well Paladin, looks like your sense of humor is as dark as mine.” She joked, standing straight up as she adjusted the strap of the shotgun pressed against her back. Danse shot her a quick look, a slight hint of worry on his face which she caught immediately. With a small laugh, she added “Don’t worry, I’m sure the Brotherhood of Steel wouldn’t approve of such a thing, but what do I know? I just met you guys.”

“I assure you, the consumption of house-pets is heavily frowned upon in the Brotherhood, baring emergent situations.” He reassured, his face serious and pinched, as if considering such a thought had upset him greatly. 

“Yeah well, don’t get any ideas.” She replied casually, perplexed by Danse's sudden stoic tone.

Nora leaned down briefly, scratching Dogmeat for a few happy moments before straightening back up and shooting the paladin an amused glance. Dogmeat followed her lead, now standing, panting with excitement. “Ready for our mission, buddy?”

Dogmeat barked and jump up against her momentarily, wagging his tail. She chuckled softly as he started toward the barricade, looking back to check if she was following.

“ArcJet is just a short jot to the West.” Danse stated, indicating the direction with his finger. “If we take this alley, we should be able to avoid the larger packs of ferals infesting Cambridge.”

“What, you don’t want to go toe to toe with anymore post-apocolyptic zombies tonight?” She teased as she began walking toward the direction he had pointed. “You’re no fun.”

Danse narrowed his eyes as she began walking West, Dogmeat bounding ahead. The outdated term caught his attention, bringing his concerns back to light. He hadn’t heard the term since he and Haylen had found that strange book months ago, back at the Citadel. Determined to figure out the woman’s peculiarities, he followed, miffed at the contradictions debating in his mind. He recognized he was also irritated to see her taking the lead on his mission, he was certain she didn’t have a clue where she was going. He followed her, quickly catching up to her in his Power Armor.

“What did you say your name was?” He asked, watching her hands as she held her shotgun, which she had only just brought to the front moments before. He could tell that she had some sort of training, but as to it’s source, he was uncertain.

She could feel herself tense at the question, but hoped she would be able to quickly deflect it, her temper growing shorter as the exhaustion and pain from the day began to set in.

“I didn’t, Paladin.” She offered flippantly, barely looking at him when she answered. Danse felt himself growing annoyed with the woman’s sudden attitude.

“Listen,” He started firmly, an air of confidence and authority notably stronger in his tone. “If we’re to be working together, I expect a certain level of honesty. If I can’t trust you to have my back, I might as well go alone.”

She stopped, turning to look at the soldier with a sigh. Her chest felt noticeably tighter, as she began to feel guilty for the secrecy. “You’re right. I can guarantee you though, that I will have your back out here. You have my word. I know you don’t know me from anyone, but where I come from, my word is my bond. You can trust me on this, sir.”

Danse searched the her face for any indication of deceit but all he could find was sincerity. He had anticipated hostility from the woman, and her acknowledgment confused him even more.

“Nora.” She suddenly volunteered, the name breaking him out of his thoughts, having not realized he had been staring at her for longer than intended. She turned back west immediately after the confession, scanning the area until her gaze found the target of her interest. “Just don’t eat my dog, okay?”

Nora could feel a pleasant smile break through her features, despite her efforts to resist it. She knew she shouldn’t have made the smart remark, but she had never been good at keeping her mouth shut.

“You have my word.” He answered, mimicking her own promise before resuming his pace, taking the lead with Nora not far behind. She rolled her eyes at the movement, this time carefully to make sure she did it behind his back.

The pair walked in silence for a good thirty minutes, and Nora began checking her PipBoy more frequently, as they still had yet to reach the building.

“So, when you said a short jot, what exactly did you mean by that?” She inquired, her voice doing little to disguise her frustration.

“I may have not been completely forthcoming about the distance of the facility.” He replied, briefly meeting her eyes before a small sigh escaped him. He could see that she was exhausted, despite her steadfast efforts to hide it. “We’re about halfway there, but if you require a moment to recuperate, I can allow it.”

“Glad you can allow it, sir.” She answered tersely, walking toward an abandoned piece of concrete off to the side of the road. Nora sat down quickly, almost loosing her balance in the process, the weight of her bag pulling her back. The lack of coordination did not escape Danse’s observation, but he wisely chose not to comment on it. It was the first indication of vulnerability the woman had shown, and he felt it would be disrespectful to draw attention to it. Dogmeat quickly moved to jump up next to her, placing his head in her lap.

He moved to sit on another large block of concrete across from her, watching as she removed her bag and began rummaging through it. She pulled out two cans of water and a plastic bowl, grabbing one of the cans and offering it to him wordlessly as she continued searching through the bag with her free hand. He watched as her arm remained in the air, not moving to take the water.

“Are you going to take it or what?” She asked impatiently, finally looking up to him, raising her eyebrow as she waved the can in his direction. He nodded, quickly taking the water from her.

“Thank you.” He answered, his voice bearing a tone of surprise. It was uncommon for people in the Commonwealth to offer resources so freely, especially something as valuable purified water. “I will be sure to compensate you fairly when we return to the station.”

She stopped as she began to open her own can, having given up hope of ever finding the pack of gumdrops she was searching for.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s just water.” She shrugged, popping the tab on the can and pouring a generous amount in the bowl and placing it next to Dogmeat, who began lapping it up eagerly.

“Water is a very valuable resource and while I appreciate the generosity, the Brotherhood pays their debts. I’ll be sure to provide you with enough caps to cover the water as well as your assistance on this mission.” He opened his water quickly, suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was and took a full sip as he scanned the space behind her. She froze, looking up at him with blatant confusion written across her face.

“What the fuck is a cap?” She blurted out, uncertain if she had heard him correctly. Her concern for secrecy temporarily forgotten as the question presented itself, spilling out of her mouth before she could process it. Danse offered his own confused expression. She felt as if she had asked him if the sky was green, or something equally as asinine. She suddenly felt very anxious under the man's stare, uncomfortable with her apparent lack of wasteland knowledge.

“You don’t know what caps are? How long have you been in the Commonwealth?” He asked incredulously, uncertain if she was playing coy or truly didn’t know. She felt herself blush in embarrassment, and let out a quick laugh, looking down at Dogmeat who had finished drinking his water and was now pawing at the bowl.

“Well,” she stopped, her voice small, unsure of how to respond. She worried that if she told him the truth he’d take it as another flippant response instead of an authentic one, but felt guilty at the thought of lying to him outright. “That’s a very good question.”

The words sounded much more forlorn than she had intended, the sorrow echoing in the residual silence. Danse felt uncomfortable at the sudden exhibit of emotion and looked behind him, eyes intent to focus on anything else.

“But, that’s not important.” Nora suddenly answered, jumping up, replacing her bag over her back. Dogmeat moved to a stand as well and began pacing around her feet. She was not interested in having this conversation with him and was determined to change the subject. “Ready to go, sir?”

Before he had a chance to answer, she was off, walking slowly west toward their destination. He wasn’t going to press her for answers at the moment, but their conversation was far from over. He knew she was hiding something serious, but understood her hesitance to open up to him. Still, the mysterious circumstances of her arrival was not something he could tolerate. Determined to press her for answers, he tried a different line of questioning, catching up to her side.

“What is ‘De oppresso liber’?" He tried, hoping the question was safer than his previous one. She sighed and shot him a glance, her expression bearing the weight of her irritation.

“It loosely translates to ‘freedom of the oppressed’.” Her words were short and final, and it was clear she didn’t want to say anything further on the matter.

Given her previous reactions, Danse remained silent, despite the desire to inquire further. He knew he needed her help for this mission and didn’t want to jeopardize that. They continued walking in silence, and Nora felt a sense of relief wash over her as it became apparent Danse was done with his line of questioning for the moment, despite the awkward silence it produced.

“This is pretty far to go for some radio piece,” she offered finally, “You guys must be really desperate, huh?”

"Traveling this far from the police station is a risk, but getting that transmitter up and running needs to be our top priority." He explained, more than happy to launch into the details of the mission. He was much more comfortable talking about the operation than personal matters.

Nora listened carefully, taking in his every word with a determination to gather as much of their mission details as possible. She felt her heart drop at the mention of the loss of his teammates and stopped. He looked at her, surprised by her sudden lack of movement.

“Danse,” She began gently, her hand reaching to quickly squeeze the crook of his elbow, one of the only areas not covered by the armor, before letting go. “I’m so sorry to hear about your team. I’m sorry for your loss, Paladin.”

His mind reeled, feeling wholly uncomfortable at the statement, her sincerity and compassion a stark divergence from anything he’d expected or experienced thus far in the Commonwealth. Even back in Capitol City, the Brotherhood condolences were hardly so heartfelt despite their close bonds, as many of them were already numb from the near-constant deaths of their teammates.

“Uh, thank you.” He answered quickly, shifting as he readjusted his rifle in his hands. Nora noticed his discomforted and shrugged, turning back to look at the building up ahead. “That’s... very kind of you to say, Nora.”

She gave a short, respectful nod to Danse before continuing the journey. The building before them grew closer, it’s sign still clearly visible despite it’s advanced age.

“There it is... ArcJet systems.” Danse stated with a new edge in his voice, scanning the area. He nodded toward the front doors of the facility, checking to see that she understood. She offered a short nod back in reply, falling in behind him, Dogmeat copying her movements.

“It was corporations like this that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind.” Danse began, his disgust at the pre-war institution evident. Every word he spoke dripped with disdain and unspoken rage. Nora felt herself nodding in agreement at every word, her own fury at Vault scientists at the forefront of her mind.

As they entered a room off to the side, they both stopped. Nora felt her breath catch in her throat as she saw the remnants of numerous destroyed protectrons scattered about on the floor. Danse scanned the area and felt his stomach drop at the realization of exactly what they were up against hit him.

“I don’t think we’re alone here, Danse.” Nora whispered, her shotgun raised as she was scanning the lobby from where they had just came. Dogmeat whimpered at her side, sniffing the air as if he could smell the impending danger.

Before Danse could answer, blue flashes of lights appeared, robotic figures appearing in the lobby. In an instant, Danse grabbed Nora’s wrist, quickly pulling her into the closet in the corner of the room, ushering Dogmeat in behind them and quietly closing the door. He turned to face her. The closet was fortunately roomier than he’d been anticipating and they were all able to fit comfortably. Dogmeat stood hunched down in front of the door, eyes fixated on something only he could see.

“We don’t have much time, so I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say, okay?” Danse whispered, his eyes wild with panic as he looked at her. He could see for the first time since meeting, she was afraid.

She could feel herself nodding, the pressure in her chest only increasing after seeing the look of terror in Danse’s eyes that mirrored her own.

“Those monstrosities out there are Institute Synths. Engineered as weapons of destruction. They are far more dangerous than any ghoul or mutated creature you’ve ever encountered. I am going to need you to do exactly what I say if we’re going to get out of here alive.” He whispered, his tone sharp and desperate, looking back toward the closet door. “Do you understand me, soldier?”

“Yes sir.” She felt herself whisper, all of the new burning questions, pushed to the back of her mind. There was something in the paladin’s tone that struck something deep in her memories, something she couldn’t quite place at the moment. It had been so alarming, she couldn’t even bring herself to correct him when he called her ‘soldier’.

It was desperation, she realized.

“I’m not sure how many of those abominations we’re up against, but it’s more tactically advantageous to retreat.”

“Five.” Nora heard herself whisper as she eyed the door, the sound so soft he almost didn’t hear it. She swallowed, composing herself, hardening her face so quickly that had Danse not been watching her, he would have missed it. She looked up, meeting his eyes. “I saw five figures materialize in that lobby. You said you needed this transmitter thing to get back to your people, right? We can do this, it’s only five of them.”

Looking back toward the door, Danse processed her words. He reasoned that five synths _shouldn’t_ be too difficult and he knew that without that deep range transmitter, the Brotherhood might never find his squad all the way in Cambridge. He looked back toward Nora, her once terrified expression replaced with one of relentless determination and he immediately felt confident that she could handle this. In two sentences, she had convinced him of something he had been diametrically opposed to just moments before. He nodded and motioned toward the door before swinging it open in a gentle movement, rifle already raised.

She turned toward Dogmeat, whispering. “Get out of here, okay? No, don’t argue with me, get out of here and wait for me at home, okay?”

Dogmeat whimpered, watching her with sad eyes.

Danse exited the closet, Nora flanked behind him as they began firing into the lobby from the safety of the side room, ducking for cover behind the counter. In moments, four of the five synths lay motionless on the floor, electricity crackling in the air. The last synth turned toward them, holding a small device in his hand and pressed a button. Less than a second later, a dozen more synths materialized in the lobby, right in front of their exit.

“Down the hall, let’s go.” Danse hollered, turning to fire at the group closing in on them. Nora darted down the hall, adrenaline pumping through her veins for the third time that day, pushing her further into the facility as Danse fired on the synths behind them. She spotted two more synths at the end of the hallway, blocking the open doorway behind them. She pointed her shotgun forward, firing two shots, hitting the first assailant but missing the next.

“Fuck!” She mumbled, realizing she didn’t have time to reload, reaching for her pistol strapped to her thigh with her free hand. She fired five more shots, panic starting rise in her throat at the sound of a fusion cell whistling past her ear. The synth crumbled to the ground but not before firing two more rounds down the hall, that thankfully only managed to scorch the already ruined laminate floor.

Danse turned toward her briefly before turning around and firing two more shots at the last synth running toward him in the hall. She didn’t dare look back, scanning the room before her, which thankfully, appeared empty. She took the precious moments to reload the rounds in her shotgun, and replaced her pistol’s half empty magazine for a full one.

She looked up to see Danse enter the room behind her. “You didn’t bring any of your friends, did you?”

He choked out a short laugh, eyes alive with his own adrenaline rush. “No, they didn’t feel like hanging around.”

He started toward the door, relieved to see Nora hadn’t obtained any injuries thus far. He tried the handle, which unfortunately wouldn’t budge. “God damn it!”

The sound echoed in the empty room as they turned to stare at each other. She could feel a wide, goofy smile break out across her face at the explicative. “Paladin Danse, I’m surprised the Brotherhood approves of such language.”

He looked at her, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her amused expression.

“You would be correct in that regard, however the Brotherhood does offer some leniency in that regard for incidents that occur in the heat of battle.” He answered firmly, frowning as he saw the wires from the door leading to a terminal in the corner. She watched him, shaking her head with repressed laughter. “Do you think you can hack that terminal?”

“Uh,” she looked to see if he was joking. His solemn expression assured her he was not. “Oh you’re serious? Yeah, no. I have no idea how to hack a computer... Not really my area of expertise.”

“Our reports indicate the deep range transmitter is on the top floor of the this room. We need to get through if we have any hope to reclaim that technology.” He insisted, looking around for another way in, desperate for the mission to be a success. His mind thought of Rhys and Haylen, the last living members of his team. “I was under the impression that Vault dwellers had extensive experience with terminals.”

She paused, pursing her lips at the comment and briefly wondered if that was why he invited her to accompany him on the mission.

“Not this one.” She replied coldly, going up to the locked door and rapped on it gently. Danse spun around to look at her.

“What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to draw attention to our position?” He growled, grabbing her wrist from the door. She took her arm back, regarding him with an annoyed expression.

“Just kick down the door.” She stated with a shrug, checking the hallway to make sure no one was sneaking up behind them. “I’d do it myself but it’s been a few years.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He asked, looking toward the door with apprehension.

“You don’t know the half of it.” She scoffed. “Listen, you’re options are either figure out the terminal yourself, or kick down that door with that giant metal boot of yours.”

Danse let out an angry sigh, realizing she was right. Forcing their way through the door was their best option, except for the fact that the Brotherhood hadn’t trained him to kick down doors like some sort of savage and he didn’t have any explosives to break through.

“I - I’ve never done that before.” He admitted, glaring at the terminal behind him. He knew that if he had a scribe with him, the door wouldn’t have been an issue, but that thought was useless to him now. Nora felt herself smile and pointed back toward the door.

“Okay, big guy, now it’s time for _you_ to listen to exactly what I say, okay?” She shot him a glance before turning back to the door. “This door is hollow, that’s why I was tapping on it, to figure out how thick it was. The locking mechanism right here? That’s the only thing holding these two pieces of _hollow_ metal together. Now, you need to kick your leg up, bracing yourself on the other one, and kick with all your force at that latch. Imagine you’re kicking clean through the door.”

Danse watched her demonstrate the movement, growing ever more certain of Nora's insanity by the moment. He wondered what sort of people went around kicking in doors, especially considering the level of thought she had clearly put into the argument. She turned to him, her eyes wild with anticipation.

“I have the strange feeling, I’m going to regret attempting this maneuver.” He muttered, sulking over to the door. She quickly moved to the edge of the room, her eyes affixed on him. Danse thought carefully to her instructions, bracing himself on his back leg, bringing his leg up and aiming his foot toward the door before kicking forward with vigor.

THWUNK.

The door flung open, revealing a large circular room with a spiral staircase circling it’s exterior wall. A large rocket was situated in the center of the room with a small hallway leading away from it and an elevator situated opposite the hall.

“You said the top floor, right?” She asked, following him into the room and pointing toward the collapsed stairs. “That might be a problem.”

“The gap is much too wide to try and jump.” He mumbled his irritation growing as he furrowed his brows. Stalking over to the elevator he tried what he already knew was pointless. “The power’s out, we need to find a way to get it back on.”

He wordlessly marched into the hall and scanning for anything to help them get to the top floor. He knew he was foolish to hope for a simple switch or button that would get the elevator working, but he checked anyways.

Nora followed, eyes scanning the room, immediately drawn to a large, bright red button next to the thick window displaying the launch room.

“A big red button? Next to a giant rocket?” She muttered shaking her head. “That can’t be a good sign.”

She heard an electric buzzing as the hair stood on the back of her neck, looking up in time to see a dozen more figures materialize beneath the rocket. Before she could holler for him, Danse appeared, rifle raised and he moved to the hallway.

“Find a way to turn on the power, I’ll hold them off!” He ordered, looking at her briefly before starting down the hallway.

“Do I look like an electrician to you, Danse?” She yelled back, watching as the figures began approaching the entrance to the hallway.

“A what-” He hollered down the hall, the question cut short but the sound of energy weapons firing. His attention was immediately drawn to the synths approaching him as he fired rapidly, determined to not let any one of them get by him.

She immediately checked the room, begging the forces that be to help her find an easy solution. In the corner of the room she spotted a power breaker and ran to it.

“Please be this easy, please be this easy” she muttered, flipping the power breaker into an upright position. Around her, energy buzzed, the sounds of machinery starting around her. She felt relief flow through her before turning to sprint down the hallway after Danse. Before she could reach the hall, she saw another group of at least a dozen synths materialize. Her eyes darted to the rocket, the metal doors, and back to the hallway where she could still see Danse’s shadow fending off the mob of synths.

_This is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's the only one I got._

She ran toward the hallway, spotting him immediately.

“Danse, I need you to trust me!” She screamed, yanking on the back handle of his power armor, trying to pull him back into the room. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and obliged, sprinting down the hall. She reached the room moments after him, hitting a button behind the metal doors which swung them shut, just as the group of synths was mere feet away. Danse looked up as they began beating on the door, trying to shoot through the thick metal.

Nora ran toward the console, slamming a large red button before turning to him.

‘Launch system activating in 5.... 4......’ A robotic voice boomed over the speaker.

“We need to get behind the wall in the corner.” She urged, her wild eyes meeting his own with an insistent urgency. Realization dawned on him as he finally figured out what was about to happen, running to the wall that half blocked the corner. She followed behind him, her gaze darting back toward the window.

“Get in the corner.” He ordered her, moving to the spot closest toward the blast. He turned to look at her, saw the start of objection forming on her lips. “I’m not losing any more soldiers under my care. Behind me, now.”

She obliged, nestling into the corner as he turned his back toward the blast, facing her as she covered her face with her arms. An echoing boom resounded, shaking the entire facility from the sheer force. Danse could feel the heat on his back, warm but not hot enough to leave any lasting injury. Nora could feel the tightness in her chest growing as she felt the warm air enter the room.

Everything feel eerily silent a moment later, the pair exchanging cautious looks, listening carefully for the sound of foot steps or electrical crackling to indicate more synths approaching, but they heard neither.

Nora was the first to stand, darting around Danse with her shotgun raised as she scanned the area, though he was not far behind. Through the window she could see where the synths had been standing, all that as left in their place were piles of dust.

Peering around the edges of the window, Danse stated “I don’t think anything could have survived that.”

Nora moved toward the metal doors, peeking outside the small windows. “More dust.” She answered before hitting the release on the wall. The metal doors opened with a loud metallic groan.

They carefully proceeded down the hall, guns raised, but saw no further sign of the synths. Danse moved to the elevator, pressing the button. The small ding of the elevator bell as the lift opened, took them both by surprise. Nora watched him apprehensively, not moving any closer to the elevator as he confidently entered.

“What are you doing? We have to get to the top floor. The sooner was get the transmitter, the sooner was can be free of this area.” Danse beckoned to the spot beside him as she shot him an incredulous look.

“You want me, to get into that tiny elevator with you and your oversized Power Armor suit?” She asked, ignoring the indignant look on his face as she mentioned his suit, continuing “Moments after a rocket just launched out of this building, annihilating everything in it’s path and turning it to gravel?”

He paused, before nodding. “That’s precisely what I want you to do.”

She gaped at him, debating if she could convince him otherwise. His unwavering stare told him in no uncertain terms, she absolutely could not. Rolling her eyes she entered the lift.

“If I die in an elevator accident, I’m going to be furious. Can you imagine the evening news?” She complained smashing the button before she could change her mind. “Local idiot tempts fate by riding on the tails of a rocket. Sanctaury woman killed in -”

The elevator ground to a halt, making a loud metallic screeching noise. She reached out to the sides of the wall, bracing herself as the doors opened. Before they could get open half way, she darted out, shaking her head as she exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her mind briefly shot back to the last time she had been in an enclosed metal space, before quickly pushing that memory away.

Danse stared at her, her words so profoundly out of place. He was about to ask her about the comment, but his eyes caught sight of the device, sitting on a table in the corner. It looked identical to the picture Haylen had drawn him this morning and he picked it up immediately.

Nora looked over at him, her breath still heavy as the pain in her side had started to throb again, now that her adrenaline was wearing off. She idly thought that she should have ran out of the stimulating chemical hours ago, but ignored the concern. “Is that it?”

“Yeah, it looks like it’s in decent condition, but it’s hard to tell until we get it back to Cambridge.” He muttered, his thoughts now focused on getting the device back to Haylen in one piece.

“Good. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” She muttered, walking down the long flight of stairs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded, following her down several floors. He watched her peer over the edge where the stairs dropped off into open air. She looked back at him, tilting her head ever so slightly.

“Oh, I’m not getting back into that thing.” She stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to the elevator above them before peering at the ground once more. “It might have been too far to jump up to, but I can lower myself over the side and it’d only be a few feet down.”

“You’re could break an ankle! This is unnecessarily reckless.” He argued, angered at her lack of forethought. She swung the shotgun back behind her, moving to sit on the edge of the stairs, clearly ignoring his warning.

“Better than dying trapped in that tiny elevator with you and that giant vending machine you’re wearing!” She called, moving to lower herself over the edge, dangling by her fingers momentarily before landing on the ground below. He huffed an indignant sigh before following her the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Get out of the way.” He ordered, looking down at the landing below as she raised her eyebrow, a curious expression on her face. She momentarily paused, considering his words before backing into the room they had first entered from. A loud boom echoed throughout the facility and she looked at Danse, a circular indentation around where he had landed.

“Oh, now you tell me you can jump down and be perfectly fine.” She joked, he body feeling suddenly overwhelmed with the sense of exhaustion. “This whole time you could have just jumped down first and caught me, but no, go be a showoff.”

She rolled her eyes, smirking as she proceeded back down the hall and into the facility lobby, Danse following after her. She stole a quick glance back to the now open closet where she had left Dogmeat, worry suddenly forming a pit in her stomach. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she scanned the lobby but found no sight of him, hoping desperately that he hadn’t been in that room when the rocket went off.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Danse offered as he observed her dejected look back down the hall. “Your dog wasn’t in there when the rocket went off. If he was I would have grabbed him, okay? I never leave a solider behind.”

Nora nodded silently, blinking back the tears that were begging to fall down her cheeks, turning to push out the front doors. She needed to get fresh air, determined not to let him see her cry.

As she exited the building, she felt the air against her skin, much cooler than it had been during the day and looked up at the stars, then back at the figure moving behind her.

“I never took the time to look at the star much before.” She offered, forcing a small smile to her face as she marveled at their beauty. She could feel the exhaustion pressing on her like a weighted blanket, her legs begging for a rest. She mumbled faintly, more to herself than Danse. “They were a lot harder to see before, with the lights....and all that...”

Danse had clearly noticed her statement, and Nora kicked herself for letting down her guard around the man yet again, before taking off down the stairs at a quick pace. She hoped she could outrun, or out-walk rather, the inevitable questions about another one of her stupid slips. The loud, quick steps behind her told her that he had a different idea.

He stared at her as she retreated, once again stuck wondering at her unusual comment. As long as he’d been alive there had never been lights in sky, except the radiation storms, but Nora seemed to have a different impression. Noticing that she was walking much quicker than before, he had to rush to keep up with her.

“What did you mean by that?” He asked, his tone almost accusatory. She shot him a tired look and just shrugged, remaining silent as she increased her pace to a brisk walk. “Speeding up your pace will not dissuade my questions. You might be quicker initially, but my Power Armor will sustain me for much further.”

“It’s nothing.” She offered cautiously, trying to shrug off the comment. “I’m just tired, I’ve been up since dawn running around to every which corner of the Commonwealth. It’s now... well past midnight.”

He narrowed his eyes, watching as she lowered her arm where she had just raised her PipBoy, Diamond City Radio filling the air, clearly her not so subtle way of telling him to shut up. After the fourth song ended, his patience had begun to wear thin, though he would admit the increased pace had them much closer to Cambridge than he’d anticipated.

She knew she couldn’t keep playing the radio forever, considering how the station only played the same few dozen songs, but _that_ particular song had come on much sooner than expected.

Tex Beneke’s “A Wonderful Guy” began and she groaned, flipping off the radio. Danse’s pestering questions were less exasperating than that song, even if only just. She tried to speed her walking even more, but her body was firmly protesting the attempt. As if in retaliation, she could feel pace slowing down instead.

She knew it was only a matter of time until he pressed her for information, and as if sensing her thoughts, he spoke up.“Are you done ignoring me yet?” 

“I haven’t decided.” She answered lazily, shooting him an irate glare, silently begging the man to just leave it alone. Danse could feel himself getting angry finally, her bored tone sending him over the edge.

“I thought I saw some potential in you, but if you’re going to refuse to cooperate as a part of a team and act like a child, then there’s no need for you to remain here.” He ordered, the anger seeping into his town much more than he had intended, but Nora stopped, her hands clenched in fists. He could see her jaw tense as she turned to him, tears dampening the corner of her eyes.

“I-” She started, her voice weak as she tried to force down the lump in her throat. She hated being yelled at, but worse than that, she hated disappointing authority figures, which she reluctantly admitted, Danse certainly represented. But at least she had been able to fight the tears from spilling. “Why are you pushing this, Danse?”

He exhaled at the sound of her dejected voice, immediately feeling guilty for letting his anger get the better of him.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I am pushing the issue here, but there’s a reason. We had a lot thrown at us back there.” He continued walking, watching as she followed, hoping to gauge her reaction to what he wanted to offer. “Our mission could have ended in disaster, but you kept your cool and handled it like a soldier. The way you found out how to start the power when I couldn’t figure it out, your quick thinking by utilizing the rocket’s launch sequence to take out a group of nearly 20 synths, that sort of thing can’t be taught. I have no doubt you got what it takes to succeed. However, I need to know I can trust you.”

She watched him as he walked, only a few steps ahead of her, his words playing in her head. Normally the compliment would have flattered her ego, played into her confidence, but tonight it just caused a brutal conflict inside her mind. She thought back to the events at ArcJet, the lengthy silence after his bold statements on the verge of being awkward.

“You already trust me.” She stated dryly, her will to argue gone as exhaustion continued to pull at her thoughts. Though, she felt a marked relief as she saw the barricade ahead in the distance. “You’ve trusted me from the moment you met me, turning your back to me in the firefight with the ghouls without so much as a second thought. Back at ArcJet, you were facing a mob of almost two dozen synths, but I told you to trust me and you ran toward what you already knew was a dead end. What you don’t trust is yourself, because you don’t know why you trust me and it’s driving you crazy.”

Danse stopped, lowering his rifle to his side as he thought about her words. He'd never had someone so deftly analyze him, much less in such a blunt and accurate manner. The accusations hung in the air of night like dew drops.

She was right, he knew, which only served to irritate him more. He looked in the distance, eyeing the barricade at the end of the alley, deep in thought as he recalled the day's events.

Nora watched him wordlessly, knowing he had gone miles away, busy considering her asseveration. Hearing a faint sound, she turned to scan behind them, her stomach dropping in an instant.

“Danse!” she screamed, her eyes wide with fear as a synth was running toward them, laser rifle in hand aiming at the figure behind her. She looked back to where Danse had just shook himself out of thought, his own rifle still at his side. In an instant, she jumped in front of him, leveling her own shotgun, firing two shots at the synth’s head, stopping him in his tracks.

Danse turned just in time to see the synth pointing the rifle directly at him, it’s finger already on the trigger, followed by a flash of blue, streak across the road. He heard the shotgun shells clatter to the ground just as he brought his own rifle up. Blinking, he realized that the synth was down, it’s head blown clear off, electricity crackling softly in the night.

“Shit!” He heard Nora yell, turning his attention toward where she was kneeling with one knee on the ground, holding her shoulder. Her breath was ragged as the pain burned through her, singeing her skin in a way she had never felt before.

“I don’t know what I expected,” she gasped, trying to pulled herself up from the ground. “I knew regular bullets hurt - but I didn’t - ah, imagine lasers to be, uh, quite like this.”

Danse moved to help her up, careful to avoid her shoulder and grab her opposite side, a myriad of emotions coursing through him at the realization that she had just taken a fusion cell to the arm for him.

“Ah, ow!” She cursed as he pulled her up, flinching as his hand touched her side, the wound from earlier still fresh and pulsating. He stopped, taking his hands back once it was clear she was able to support her own weight, scrutinizing her movement.

“Nora...” He cautioned, following her as she began walking toward the police station, her shotgun now strapped over her back and she carried her pistol. Immediately he realized it was the best tactical choice she had. She knew she wouldn’t be able to use the shotgun now that her shoulder was injured.

“If we weren’t literally two minutes from the station, I’d love to sit here and chat with you,” she called sarcastically, pointing to the barricade, “But I could really use a beer and a nap.”

He begrudgingly followed her, eyes watching for any hitch in her movement to indicate she was about to topple over. It came close on the stairs but she ultimately pushed through, making it just through the front doors before collapsing.

Danse ran after her, kneeling next the her crumpled figure on the floor, overcome in panic that he had just gotten someone else killed.

“Haylen! Get over here now!” He ordered, his voice a low growl. He could feel a knot in the pit of his stomach and criticized himself for being so stupid as to let this ridiculous civilian in the field. How could he have been foolish to trust her so easily? He was certain he’d just as well as murdered this woman by inviting her along.

Haylen’s head peaked around the corner, and he felt the worry in his stomach grow into dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all weren't expecting for Danse to get deep-fried at ArcJet, you sickos.


	9. Undecided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You're undecided now  
> So what are you gonna do?  
> I've been sitting on a fence  
> And it doesn't make much sense  
> Cause you keep me in suspense  
> And you know it'

Nora felt like she was falling, spinning, everything around her blurred as she suddenly felt weightless. When she finally looked up, her chest constricted, clamping tighter around her breath, bringing her eyes to meet the pair in front of her.

_Sergeant Lance Kevins._

His face broke into a soft smile as he gently patted her shoulder before taking a seat at the desk across from her, throwing his feet up on the surface.

She was suddenly aware that her shoulder no longer hurt like it had only moments before and after looking down, she noticed she was back in her uniform. Looking around the room, she realized they were seated in her old station, the smell of cigarettes and burnt coffee fresh in the air.

“I got to hand it to you, kid. I ain’t seen someone smart off to Velazquez like that in years.” He started, moving to grab the mug on his desk.

She could hear the words echoing in her ears, the memory of this very conversation buried toward the back of her mind, hidden deep from memory. When she looked up at him again, the scene had changed. They were no longer in the police station, instead standing outside under the streetlight, the neon sign of the diner blinking behind them.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Nora.” He whispered, his usually bright eyes contrasted by the dark circles beneath them.

“What do you mean, Kev?” She heard her voice ask, but the words hadn’t come from her. She looked around, trying to find the source of the question.

“I- I don’t know. I tried to talk to L.T about taking some time off. Just told me if I leave now I won’t have a job to come back to.” He mumbled, his warm voice broken by a profound sadness. "I can't afford... I need to keep my job, El."

She tried to reach forward, to offer him a sympathetic pat on the back, but her hands met cold glass in front of her. Panic began flooding through her, her fists moving without her consent as they hit against the interior of the cryopod. However, the man in the pod across from her wasn’t Nate, it was Sergeant Kevins.

In an instant, she was standing in front of him, the cryopod door now open. Her eyes scanned her friend, taking in the wound on the side of his head, blood that had long since dried caked along the side of his face, and a small revolver still in his hand.

She could hear footsteps approaching and she looked up, taking in the man walking toward her. It was _that bastard_ , that man who had shot Nate and kidnapped her innocent little Shaun. The man raised his gun toward her and the shot echoed through the Vault as she screamed in pain.

*

Nora jolted awake, pain searing from her side and shoulder. She was only partially cognizant of the tears streaming down her face, quiet sobs choked out of her throat. The room was dark, but she heard someone quietly move to her side.

“You’re okay, Nora.” A soft, female voice reassured her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders. Nora felt the prick of a needle in the crook of her elbow, followed by a warm sensation moving up her arm. “The Stimpak might make you feel drowsy, but don’t try to fight it. You need to rest.”

Nora could feel herself nodding, trying to formulate the words swirling around her head into a coherent answer. She could feel her body relaxing as the words faded from her mind and she drifted back to sleep.

*

Danse paced around the garage, his eyes darting back to the Power Armor station where he had been attempting and failing to repair his suit. Every time he tried to focus on the armor he found his mind wandering, trying to come to terms with everything that had gone wrong during their mission.

He chastised himself for being so foolish as to bring a civilian along on a Brotherhood mission. Patience wasn’t something that came naturally to him, he always had the tendency to jump into the next mission as soon as possible.

The more he tried to work on the Power Armor, the more his guilt began to grow. If he had just waited a couple days for his team to recuperate, he wouldn’t have had to drag Nora into danger. Now it was his fault that she was injured along with the rest of his team.

The guilt was even worse than losing Dawes, Keane, Worwick and Brach, even if only marginally so, because with them he could reassure himself that they at least knew what they were getting into. Despite the gnawing feeling he had in his stomach every time he thought of how he could have done better for his squad, it helped sometimes to remind himself that his team volunteered readily, having full knowledge of all the potential consequences. But he had outright asked Nora to tag along despite his reservations about her.

Granted, he had not anticipated the level of resistance they would face; had he known they would be going up against dozens of synths, he would have never put them in such a dangerous position.

Even worse, she then had to go and jumped in front of a gun for him, while he was busy lost in his own thoughts. He briefly thought of what she had said to him, about how he trusted her immediately and his own inability to explain exactly why was driving him crazy. She was right, he knew, but it didn’t lessen his irritation about being completely and accurately scrutinized.

As he reanalyzed the details of the mission, Danse thought back to the compassion she had shown him when he divulged the loss of a majority of his squad. The look in her eyes was one of understanding, like she had know exactly what he was feeling.

Her contradictions were taking residence in the forefront of his thoughts, preventing him from getting any work on his Power Armor completed.

She was unlike anyone he had ever met both in the Commonwealth or back in the Capital Wasteland. Despite her initial claim that she was from a Vault, she had none of the naivety of a typical Vault dweller. However, she didn’t look like a wastelander with her pale, near perfectly clear skin and hair that had looked to have been recently cleaned. Most of the settlers in the area were tanned from years of sun exposure and the luxury of a shower wasn’t one most could afford. While some settlements had working showers, it was definitely a rarity.

Danse thought of how she had agreed to help readily, without a demand for compensation; definitely an uncommon thing to come across in the wasteland. There was also her confusion over his promise to compensate her for her help, her ignorance of caps, which were common place everywhere, from the Commonwealth all the way to the New California Republic.

In direct contrast from her apparent ignorance of caps and her overt display of sympathy, was how she handled herself in battle. She moved like she had tactical training, mirroring many of his own movements and displaying calm, quick thinking in the face of the ever-evolving mission. Some of her tactics reminded him of his own, those the Brotherhood of Steel had indoctrinated him with through years of training, but he was certain she wasn’t Brotherhood or she would have known about synths, ghouls, and definitely the currency of the wasteland. She had even stated she didn’t know who the Brotherhood of Steel were.

His thoughts moved onto her strange words, words that were uncommon to him but had sounded faintly familiar, some of which he had read in the pre-war book the scribes had stored back at the Citadel.

‘What, you don’t want to go toe to toe with anymore post-apocolyptic zombies tonight?’

‘They were a lot harder to see before with the lights....and all that...’

‘Can you imagine the evening news?’

‘Do I look like an electrician to you, Danse?’

‘De oppresso liber’

There was something familiar about the Latin phrase, but he couldn’t quite place it. He knew that the use of Latin phrases was common in many military groups that had been formed across the wasteland, but that wasn’t something he had heard from any of the militias in the Capitol.

He thought about the small book Haylen had gifted him shortly after they’d arrived in the Commonwealth, full of pre-war military slogans and history. There was something in the back of his mind that told him that was where he had seen the phrase before. With a sigh, he turned toward the door to the garage and ascended up the stairs, back into the main lobby.

As soon as he entered the lobby, he saw Haylen returning from the holding cells, an empty stimpak and bloodied bandages in her hand.

“Scribe Haylen.” He started, eyeing her face constantly in an attempt to read her expression. “How is she doing?”

Haylen sighed, moving her arm down to her side still clutching the medical supplies. She glancing to Rhys who had finally fallen asleep on the bed in the corner and a small smile played at her lips at the sight of him.

“She’s pretty banged up, but she should be fine.” Haylen started, looking up to meet Danse’s eyes. “In addition to the burn from the laser rifle, she has some swelling along her knuckles, bruises forming along her forearms, as well as a pretty nasty laceration on her side. I’d guess she was in some sort of fight earlier in the day based on how fresh the wounds were.... You know it’s interesting.”

Haylen let out a soft chuckle pausing and shaking her head, looking up at Danse and briefly at Rhys before continuing. “She had plenty of medical supplies in her pack, including stimpaks and Med-X, but she obviously didn’t use either. She chose to bandage it up instead, using gauze and the pressure of her armor to stop the bleeding.”

Danse frowned, as he tried to process everything Haylen had told him. “That’s certainly uncommon, Haylen. Those supplies are extremely valuable, but I’m not familiar with many people who would willing choose not to utilize them should they have them in their possession.”

“My thoughts exactly Paladin. Especially considering the severity of the wound. It was much deeper than I was expecting it to be.” She agreed, shuffling uncomfortably and looking to the floor. “She’s lucky it wasn’t much deeper. Whoever did that - Well, they almost killed her.”

Danse nodded somberly, anger and fascination toward Nora growing with every bit of new information he received. “It was foolish of her to run into danger so soon after incurring a stab wound.”

“If she didn’t we likely wouldn’t be having this conversation, sir.” Haylen offered, implying what they both knew. Had Nora not shown up when she did, it was likely that the remainder of Recon Squad Gladius would have died in that courtyard. Furrowing his brow in thought, he scanned Haylen’s face. The pair had trained together for years back at the Citadel, so he knew when his scribe was being deceptive. “Scribe Haylen, what aren’t you telling me? Is there something else?”

“Sir, I- I don’t feel comfortable.” She paused, swallowing carefully at the guilty feeling in her stomach. The small woman met his eyes nervously before looking back toward the floor. “I don’t feel like it’s my place to tell you anything, seeing as she’s under my care at the moment, but....”

“Haylen, do I need to pull rank here?” He asked firmly, watching the conflicting emotions cross her face. Pulling rank was not something he enjoyed doing, in fact it made him feel guilty and manipulative, but the safety of his team was his priority.

“No sir,” she sighed, walking behind the desk to throw away the medical supplies she had been holding. Danse followed, shooting a quick look back to the still sleeping figure of Rhys. “When I was tending to her wounds I noticed some... unusual things...”

“Dear God Haylen, out with it already.” He snapped, irritation at his subordinate’s hesitance to divulge pertinent information. It wasn’t like Haylen to subvert his authority, and the fact that it involved the strange woman who had waltzed into Cambridge full of contradictions and mystery only compounded his frustration.

“I found some things in her possession...” Haylen finally replied, “Some pre-war military dogtags of a ‘Captain J Smith’ and a pocket knife. The knife had an engraving on it. ‘Officer E. Smith’... Sir, I think she might be a remaining member of the Enclave. I remember their squad leaders were called officers.”

Danse felt his stomach drop at the mention of the Enclave. It had been decades since the Brotherhood had to deal with any remaining Enclave members, but it did seemed to fit with some of his observations of the woman.

The Enclave had formed from the remainder of the United States federal government and military personnel. It made sense that the woman could be a descendant from one of the original members if she had possession of pre-war dogtags with a surname that match the name engraved on the knife. Her tactical experience, quick thinking, and near imperceptible stress in the face of conflict would also give credence to the theory. Plus that Latin saying she spouted out at the drop of a hat.

_‘De oppresso liber' Did it really mean what she had said? The freedom of the oppressed?_

Had he been so foolish to let an Enclave officer into their base? The thought filled him with anxiety, he shot a quick glance toward Rhys as the knight turned over in his sleep with a quiet groan.

_But if Nora was a member of the Enclave how did she not know what caps were? Or ghouls?_

Danse nodded, looking back to where Haylen was standing behind the desk, still staring at him.

“Scribe, until we get this sorted out, I trust you use your discretion and keep this between us for the time being. The last thing we need right now is for Rhys to confront her on the matter.” He stopped, looking back toward where the holding cells were. “Until then, have all her weapons been removed from the cell?”

“Negative, sir. I’ll collect them now.” She answered, grabbing a cardboard box from the floor.

“Just for safe keeping, Haylen.” He reminded her. “We owe her our lives, despite where she may or may not have come from. The Brotherhood doesn’t take prisoners. However, until she wakes up, I don’t want her to be left alone. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Haylen replied, turning back toward the holding cells. Danse watched her as she left, his thoughts spiraling out of control.

Despite the revelations from Haylen, Nora being a member of the Enclave was one possible explanation of some of the facts, but it didn’t account for why she would rush in to help them without regard for herself. The conflict between the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave was well known by every resident of the Capitol Wasteland.

_What motivation could she possibly have to offer her assistance to the Brotherhood if that was the case? Was she trying to infiltrate them?_

Her confusion when asking about the Brotherhood of Steel seemed genuine, and while he was aware that she could have been manipulating him by playing coy, he couldn’t bring himself to believe she had been working with the Enclave. Still, the discovery left more questions than answers, and he wasn’t going to solve the mystery of Nora until she woke up.

However, there was one thing he could look into. Danse started off toward his sleeping area, trying desperately to remember where he had put that book...

*

Nora could feel herself drifting into consciousness, her sleep had fortunately been peaceful, a welcome reprieve after her earlier nightmare. She was trying to gather her bearings and force herself to open her eyes when she heard footsteps approaching.

“How you feeling, big guy?” A soft, female voice asked. _Haylen_ , she reminded herself.

“Those ferals only scratched me... I’ll be fine.” The gruff male voice answered, an amused tone in his voice. _Rhys._ Nora realized she must be in the police station and tried to search her memories for the events of the previous night.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you were whining like a baby when I patched you up?” Haylen teased back, the flirtatious tone hard to miss, even in Nora’s sleep addled brain.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” Nora heard the reply as she tried to sit up, a sudden pain in her shoulder halting her movements as she winced aloud. The conversation suddenly stopped and she heard soft footfalls approach.

She forced her eyes open just in time to see Haylen push back a sheet covering the entrance to... _a jail cell_? She blinked a few more times revealing in the irony, her hand holding her side where she had been bandaged up as she tried to observe her surroundings. The cell had been converted into some sort of room, the small bed, an old metal chair, and a side table the only furniture inside. A sheet had been hung over the bars, blocking her from seeing outside the cell.

“Haylen...” She began, looking up to the woman from where she said on the bed. “Is there a reason I’m in a jail cell?”

“Well...” The scribe replied, nervously looking back and forth from her to the door. Haylen’s unease wasn’t lost on Nora, who narrowed her eyes in thought.

“Haylen, take a deep breath, okay?” She reassured, the other woman’s anxiety inspiring her own. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, it’s just...” Haylen paused, looking up to meet her eyes. “We brought you back her to give you some privacy while I treated your wounds. It seemed more decent than undressing you in the lobby.”

Nora looked down to herself, realizing for the first time that her Vault suit was pulled down to her hips, leaving her partially exposed in just her bra. She noticed her side and shoulder were now covered in fresh, thick bandages.

“Ah, thanks. Don’t need to be giving the boys a free peep show, eh?” She joked and looked up at Haylen who still bore a worried expression. “But seriously, Haylen. I appreciate it, and I appreciate you looking after me. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh.” Haylen’s expression softened and she moved to sit at the edge of the bed, eyes scanning Nora’s face. “Of course I did. You helped us out with those ferals, and getting that transmitter makes you good in my book...What happened out there?”

Nora looked down to where Haylen was staring directly at her shoulder. “Danse didn’t tell you?”

“No, after you collapsed, we moved you in here and I told them to get out and let me work.” She answered with a sly smile.

“Oh Haylen, I’m liking you more and more.” Nora replied with a laugh. The movement sent a shot of pain through her side and she tried to hide her wince. When she looked back toward the scribe, she saw it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Waving her hand, she continued “I’m fine, just a little sore, don’t worry about me. As for the cool laser burn? I got distracted and let a synth get the drop on me. Didn’t even see it until it was too late.”

“Humility doesn’t suit you, Nora.” Danse answered from the hallway, waiting respectfully outside the entrance of the holding cells. “Is it, uh, decent for me to come in?”

“Just a second, sir.” Haylen answered, as she moved to where a pile of clothing had been situated next to the nightstand, handing Nora a white tank top which she put on, albeit not without a few muttered curse words and a bit of a struggle. She moved to tie the sleeves of the Vault suit around her waist before nodding to Haylen. “Its all clear, sir. You can come in.”

Danse entered the room, his gaze flicking briefly to Nora before looking back to the scribe. “We’re good here, Haylen. Thank you.”

It was weird to see Danse out of his armor, Nora thought, analyzing the paladin carefully. Despite the lack of Power Armor, Danse was still a fairly tall man, his broad shoulders and muscular build made him almost as imposing as he was in the armor.

With a nod Haylen scurried out of the room, but not before shooting Nora a sympathetic glance. Danse moved to sit in the chair, crossing his arms and fixing his gaze on her. She tried to read his serious expression, but his face was virtually free of any emotion save for the slight wrinkle in between his eyebrows.

“Damn, who died?” She asked, trying to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, the joke missed it’s mark and Danse just frowned at her.

“No one died, despite your blatant lack of self preservation.” He answered seriously, a hint of anger hidden behind his dark brown eyes. “Though, based on Scribe Haylen’s description of your injuries, you came close.”

She frowned, shaking her head at the accusation. “I’m fine, Danse. As for the comment about a lack of self preservation, I’m pretty sure you should be thanking me for that.”

He flinched at her retort, shooting his eyes toward her shoulder then back to meet her own stare; she could see him clench his jaw briefly before answering. “You’re right. I owe you an insurmountable amount of gratitude for your selflessness. Ever since you got here you’ve been willing to come to the Brotherhood’s defense at every turn and what you did with the synth was no different. I have no doubt that had you not jumped into the line of fire, I would be dead.”

“That’s a really roundabout way to say ‘Thank you’, but I’ll take it.” She smarted back, rolling her eyes at the pretentious attempt of appreciation.

“Thank you, Nora.” He dryly, his face still turned into a frown.

“You’re welcome, Paladin. I’d do it again if I had to,” She replied, trying to do anything to lighten the awkward tension in the room. “But I’d appreciate you not making a habit out of almost dying and me having to save you. I only got two shoulders, you know.”

Danse showed no reaction to her comment and she groaned internally to herself. She idly thought that someone needed to teach the Brotherhood of Steel-Pole-Up-Their-Asses a little bit about comedy. Danse looked to the floor, his face contorted back into his serious, cold expression but he did not answer. Nora could feel herself beginning to get uncomfortable in the extensive silence, shifting on the bed with a quiet groan.

“Who are you really?” Danse spat out. The harshness in his tone caused Nora to look up, feeling suddenly like she was a kid again and she had just been sent to the principles office.

“I told you, my name is Nora-”

“I recall everything you told me, but much of what you claim doesn’t quite add up.” He answered, looking up to stare at her again. She sighed, fiddling with the chain around her neck nervously. “So, who are you really? Are you with the Enclave?”

“The who?” She demanded, thrown by the sudden hostility.

“Please play coy with me, Nora. Just.” Danse sighed, holding the bridge of his nose to take a deep breath before continuing. “Please just be honest with me.”

“I don’t know who or what the Enclave is. My name is Nora. I came from Vault 111.” She paused, trying to gauge how much she could trust telling him. “I’m trying to get to Diamond City and - And I came when I heard the radio broadcast because I wasn’t about to let anyone attack the police station.”

“Why?” The question surprised her. She thought Danse would ask her more about the Vault, given his previous reaction to her mention of it.

“It... It’s important to me.” She mumbled, hands tugging at the torn fabric of her Vault suit.

“Why?” Danse asked, softer this time. She tried to shrug, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes as she kept her gaze fixed on the thread she was picking.

“I hoped there would still be some officers here... It was stupid.” She tried to discreetly wipe away the tears, but Danse noticed immediately. His expression softened and he relaxed slightly, though confusion replaced the scowl on his face.

“There haven’t been officers here since before the war.” He replied, answering the question she didn’t realize she’d been wanting to ask. She nodded, the tears now flowing quietly down her face. “Why... Why did you think there would be officers here?”

She let out a sad laugh, finally looking up at Danse as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I guess I knew it wasn’t possible, but... I heard a call for help at the police station and I had to find out for myself.”

“You have dogtags around your neck, right?” He pointed toward the chain around her neck.

“If you’re asking that question, you already know the answer.” She replied carefully, trying to keep the annoyance out of voice, relieved she was able to reign in her tears. “Do you go through everyone’s belongings or only the people who save your life?”

“I didn’t go through anything.” He answered, his irritation rising to match her own. There was a small part of her that was pleased to see Danse get annoyed at her sardonic response. She was glad she could aggravate him the same way he’d kept irritating her off with his incessant questions. “Haylen noticed them when she was treating your wounds. Along with the knife you had on your person.”

Nora felt the Vault suit, trying to find the pocket knife she normally had clipped to the collar of her suit. After failing to locate the blade, she stood suddenly and stomped over to where Danse was seated, ignoring the sear of pain at the movement.

“Where the fuck is it, you son of a bitch?” She spat out, crossing her arms as she looked down at him. The rise of anger just below the surface was begging to overflow, and so help her God if it did because she knew if she lunged at the man in front of her she would only end up injuring herself. Danse raised his eyebrow at her, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and was amused by the thought of her trying to best him in combat.

Danse extended his hand, revealing the small, black pocket knife he’d been apparently holding since he entered the room. She moved to grab it from him, but he was much quicker and closed his hand around it again, bringing it back as he recrossed his arms, mirroring her own gesture of defiance.

“Officer E Smith.” He stated, clearly having regained control of his earlier irritation. She could feel heat rise to her cheeks at the name as she glared down at him. “Are you going to sit back down or continue glowering... Officer?”

She winced like she’d been slapped at the mention of her former title, hurt crossing her eyes as she continued staring at Danse, but did not offer a reply.

“I see that title struck a chord with you. So I’m going to ask you again, who are you really?.” He pressed, clearly having had noticed her expression.

Nora turned to sit back down on the bed, once again playing with the chain around her neck before answering. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to pass judgment if I were you. I appreciate that you expect a certain level of privacy, but as it stands, what it looks like is you’re a former member of the Enclave attempting to infiltrate the Brotherhood.” He paused, trying to detect a change in her expression at the allegation, but all he saw was confusion. “I have a responsibility to my men and the Brotherhood to determine the exact nature of your presence here. Especially considering the irregularities in your statements... I meant what I said before. I have no doubt that you can be successful if you want to continue working along side us, but I need to know I can trust you.”

“What makes you think I want to work with you?” She snapped in response.

“At first I couldn’t ascertain why you were so eager to not only assist in dispensing of the ferals out front, but with the recovery mission at ArcJet as well. You didn’t ask for money, quite the opposite in fact. You took the lead, walking straight toward our destination without prompting. You offered your supplies and when I mentioned compensating you accordingly with a sufficient amount of caps, you were confused.” He paused, watching Nora as she turned to fix her gaze on him. He could see a fire burning behind her eyes at his deductions, indicating he was on the right track. “You behave almost like a soldier, but you were more than content to express sympathy and selflessness. You assimilated to the mission and situation with ease, like you were familiar with being a part of a team and throwing yourself into danger. Whoever you really are and where you come from, you clearly have a desire to be part of something similar.”

She didn’t answer immediately, weighing her options. It was embarrassing to be so thoroughly dissected and addressed so bluntly, but despite her initial irritation, the words rang true. Even before the bombs had dropped, she had the burning desire to be back in the field, to feel like she had a purpose again. To have that yearning so blatantly discussed felt like a punch to the stomache.

Nora knew she needed to get to Diamond City, sooner rather than later, and while she was free to head out on her own, it would be reassuring to know she had a team behind her should she need help getting Shaun back.

“My name is Eleanora Ilda Hartt, formerly Eleanora Ilda Smith. I was born in 2049 and served as a police officer in a little town a few hours south of Boston before the bombs fell. I was cryogenically frozen in Vault 111 with my family. I woke up once during that time frame, just long enough to see some ugly bastard shoot my husband and kidnap my son. I have no idea how long ago he was kidnapped... I only woke up about a week and half ago.” She paused, forcing herself to keep talking in hopes that it would prevent the sob creeping up her throat from breaking free. “I have no idea what the fuck to do out here, the bugs are bigger than my head, I just want to get to Diamond City and see if someone, _anyone_ , has information that could help me find my son. I... I helped you guys because you reminded me of my old squad and I took at oath to protect and serve the citizens of this country. But while I do feel a certain kinship with what you guys represent, my absolute priority is to find my son.”

She let out a long breath, further repressing the emotion begging to break free. After a few moments, she composed herself completely, the redness of her cheeks and eyes the only indication she had been crying moments before.

Danse was quiet for a long time after she finished, his thoughts trying to line up his previous observations with the new information she had provided. He knew that Vault-Tec had conducted some sadistic and highly unethical experiments in the past so the story was plausible at the very least, but this was beyond anything he’d ever heard of. The woman in front of him didn’t look a day over 25, but that only further gave credence to her claims. In the wasteland people who got to be in their late twenties, like she claimed to be, looked much worse for wear. The hours in the sun, the constant radiation storms, and frequent encounters with the extensive and terrifying wildlife, not to mention the ever looming threat of Raiders, usually marred wastelanders with a variety of scars and damage. The woman before him looked nothing like any wastelander he’d ever seen, instead emulating a beauty he’d only seen in pre-war magazines and a politeness that was absolutely foreign in wasteland.

He realized in an instant that he believed her completely, but more than that, that he desperately wanted to help her. The thought terrified him. It was the first time in over a decade that he thought of anything outside the Brotherhood and his place within the organization.

“I believe you.” He stated finally, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks and he was instantly grateful for the scruff that covered a majority of his face due to too many days without a razor. “The Brotherhood can help you, you know... You’d have access to advanced technology, weapons, and armor. Though, there would be the expectation of cooperation and compliance with our mission.”

Of all the things she’d been expecting to come out of Danse’s mouth, that certainly wasn’t it. Had he really implied she join the Brotherhood to further her own motives? Or was he simply telling her what he thought she’d want to hear to get her on their side?

Before she had time to ask, she heard a loud banging echo from the front of the police station along with muffled voices. She moved to stand, inhaling at the sudden pain radiating from both sides of her body. Danse moved to help her as she bent forward, but she righted herself up and began walking toward the lobby.

The voices got louder as she approached, a familiar one standing out to her ears and filling her with a profound sense of relief.

“Listen, sir, I _know_ she’s in here. Dogmeat led me right to this place, so I _kindly_ recommend you allow me to speak with her. I have been polite, I already told you who I was and -”

“Preston!” She hollered happily, moving toward the door Rhys was currently standing in front of, his laser rifle in hand. The man shot her a glare that could freeze hell, but she pushed passed him, hobbling to unlock the door and open it for her friend.

In a matter of seconds, Dogmeat had jumped onto her, knocking her to the ground with a not so dignified “Motherfucker!” spilling from her mouth as she hit the floor. Despite the outburst, Dogmeat began licking her face happily.

Had it not been for Preston pulling him off of her, she was sure he would have stayed laid out on top of her for the rest of the day. She tried to sit up and grabbed at the wound in her side, unable to right herself as Preston kept hold of a very miserable-looking Dogmeat in the corner.

She looked up to see a hand in front of her face with a very annoyed Rhys at the end of it. Offering a humble smile in response, she took the hand as he lifted her back to her feet, quickly catching her before she could stumble and end up on the ground again.

“I’m good now, Rhys...” She paused, mustering all the humility she could find before turning to him, though it pained her to do so. “Thank you, and uh, sorry about before.”

Rhys scoffed and walked away, shooting Danse an exasperated look from where he stood in the middle of the lobby, leaving her to wobble over to the group of chairs right inside the lobby. She flopped herself into the closest chair, any semblance of grace notably absent and looked toward Preston who had finally gotten Dogmeat to calm down.

“So what, did you miss me or something Garvey?” She joked, the man’s nervous expression turning to relief at her humor. He walked over to sit across from her shaking his head.

“I thought we talked about you calling me by last name.” He offered back, and amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Sorry Preston, old habits die hard. If two century as an icicle didn’t break the habit, I doubt you can.” She retorted with a laugh as Preston placed raised his eyebrow to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we STAN Preston Garvey on this page
> 
> lil cinnamon roll
> 
> Also I stan Rhys/Haylen. Even if Rhys is a big doof


	10. Anything Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Anything goes  
> The world has gone mad today  
> And good's bad today  
> And black's white today  
> And day's night today'

Danse watched as Nora took a seat, Dogmeat moving to sit defensively by her side, as she began speaking with their new visitor inside the police station's lobby.

_Preston Garvey, she had addressed the man._

He tried to push away his growing irritation about how she had just welcomed this man into their base without so much as asking, not that he would have denied him entry, but the lack of decorum grated against his nerves. Hoping to hear the pair’s exchange, he moved to lean against the wall, close enough to listen but not close enough to interfere with the flow of the exchange.

“So, how’d you find me all the way down here?” Nora asked, watching as Preston quickly glanced around the lobby before looking back at his friend with a kind smile.

“Well, by the time I got to Tenpine’s Bluff it was almost dawn, and I had long since realized that there was no way you were going to wait for me before going after those Raiders.” Preston started, fixing a stern, disapproving glare on her face. “After the settlers there confirmed my suspicions, I headed down toward Corvega to find you. By the time I searched the building I was certain something had happened to you -”

“What?” She asked, faking indignation and placing her hand on her chest. “After you saw me single-handedly take down a Deathclaw-”

“You were wearing Power Armor-” he interjected with a laugh.

“He was charging _directly_ at me, Preston.” She quipped back, smiling, before darting her eyes toward Danse who was working very hard to appear uninterested in the story.

“You had a minigun and were on top of the roof!” Preston joked as she waved her hand in a dismissive motion.

Danse could feel himself growing annoyed at how the pair conversed in such a nonchalant manner. Ever since Nora had ran through the barriers, she had been reticent and on edge. Trying to get her to reveal any information about herself had been an uphill battle, and to see her talking so openly with Preston prickled at his mind in ways he was unsure how to process.

“I thought you’d know better than to underestimate my abilities.” She replied, a sly smirk still pulling at her lips. Danse hated the way the words almost sounded flirtatious, glancing back toward the man across from her. It was clear her comment had gone undetected by Preston, but the tone was clearly there.

“I know full and well you can handle yourself in a fight, but there were dozens of dead Raiders at Corvega, not counting however many may have gotten dragged away by animals before I got there.” Preston admonished, his tone a blend of worry and concern. Nora frowned at the information, doubt creasing at the corner of her eyes. “Taking on that many Raiders at once is a risk and I was worried things didn’t go your way... Well, I was until I ran into that provisioner not too far North of Corvega.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the fortunate thing about walking around in the Minutemen uniform is people are more prone to walk up to you and ask for help.” He replied proudly, glancing down toward his uniform briefly before meeting her gaze. “The provisioner, I believe she said her name was Moira, was asking me to check on, and I quote ‘Some psycho-chick in a Vault suit loosing her shit outside that old factory’.”

_'That sounds about right'_ Danse thought, but he didn't dare vocalize it.

Nora blushed at the description, remembering the traveling merchant she’d waved to outside Corvega. “Great, I’ve been thawed out less than two weeks and people already think I’m mentally unstable.”

“Well,” He replied, a faint laugh in his answer. “She did say you were crying and arguing with a dog.”

She didn’t answer, the guilt she’d been trying so hard to repress about what happened at the factory crept back into her thought. With her eyes fixed to her lap, she began pulling at the torn edges of her suit, her mind consumed by all the violence she’d experienced the previous day. She thought of Shaun, how her baby was probably out there alone and scared at the mercy of such violence, and how should would readily kill every sick bastard who got in her way to get back to him.

“I appreciate the concern Preston, I do,” She offered, even more guilt over the worry she had clearly caused her friend pilling onto the already substantial weight pressing against her chest. “But there was no need to worry. It was only a handful of Raiders when I got there. I promise I was careful, and I’m no worse for wear...”

Danse finally interjected, unable to keep quiet anymore on the matter of her reckless behavior. At the very least, he thought that Preston should know how grave a condition she had been in. “Scribe Haylen informed me of the fact that you had a stab wound so severe, that had you not been here when you collapsed, you were unlikely to survive the ordeal.”

Nora shot spun her head toward him, glaring at the sudden divulgence. “Now I don’t think that’s fair-”

“You got stabbed? Nora!” Preston demanded, his eyes quickly scanning her as he focused on the bandage on her shoulder with a small sigh. “I should check it out to make sure it’s not infected-”

As he began to move toward her, Danse interjected coldly. “I assure you, civilian, the Brotherhood of Steel has superior medical training and Nora has been well taken care of in your absence.”

The unspoken words in his statement were clear. Preston paused, looking toward Danse cautiously before offering a small nod in his direction. “Than I can’t thank you enough, uh...”

“Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel.” Danse offered proudly, causing Nora to roll her eyes at the statement.

_Two centuries later and men were just the same._

Before she could make a sarcastic comment in response, Preston offered a polite smile toward other man. “Thank you, Paladin. I’m glad to see she was so well looked after.”

Nora snorted indignantly at the implication of his statement. “I don’t need to be ‘looked after’. I was going to treat it myself, once I got somewhere safe.”

“Oh I have no doubts you could have managed on your own.” Preston reassured before looking around the lobby once more. “How exactly you get all the way down here after Corvega? I knew you got out of Corvega, but had it not been for Dogmeat I never would have found you here.”

She raised her eyebrow in question before he continued. “Moira had pointed me in the direction of Cambridge, said she last saw you heading that way. So I turned around and headed back South. It was then that I heard Dogmeat barking and saw him running toward me. Hell, he bit down, tugging on the edge of my coat and then started running toward the police station. I just followed, I knew you had to be close by.”

“Aww, who’s a good boy!” She praised Dogmeat, scratching behind his ears and offering her face for a brief lick.

“Your dog _is_ unusually well adept in battle,” Danse stated, approval in his gruff voice. “It’s admirable that he went out in search of reinforcements.”

“Thanks, Danse,” She replied as she felt a heat rising on the back of her neck, accompanied by a faint feeling of pride blooming in her chest at Danse’s endorsement of Dogmeat. Preston nodded in agreement, shooting the paladin a brief glance of appreciation for his supportive words as she continued. “It means a lot coming from you. Does this mean there’s a place for Dogmeat in the Brotherhood as well?”

“What?” Rhys’ voice snapped from the adjoining room as he peaked his head around the door. “You’re asking her to join up?”

“Rhys-” Haylen urged, pulling on his arm to dissuade his outburst and guide him back into the room.

Rhys yanked his arm away and began walking toward Danse, his expression contorted into one of anger. “Sir... surely you can’t be serious.”

“Rhys, that’s enough.” Danse chidedd, turning to face his subordinate, his irritation no longer masked behind the cool expression he’d previously been carefully holding.

Preston shifted uncomfortably at the outburst, and noticed Nora’s surprised expression mirroring his own. Haylen turned from the exchange, returning back into the room thoroughly determined not to get involved in the inevitable conflict. Nora glanced down just in time to see a fuzzy brown tail follow the scribe into the room.

_Smart move, Dogmeat. Follow the pretty lady away from the conflict._

“I will have you know, _Knight_ Rhys _,"_ Danse emphasize the title through grated teeth and Nora briefly ruminated on the way he had stated her own former rank with such disdain. “Initiate Hartt has shown nothing but bravery and selflessness since the moment she arrived. Not only did she pick up our radio broadcast and run directly into the fight without a second thought, she willingly agreed to accompany me on our mission at ArcJet, without so much as a question regarding compensation. If that is not enough to demonstrate her merit as a member of this team, let me add, she was more than willing to sacrifice her own safety to undoubtedly save my life. And in case that statement still necessitates further clarification, allow me to make it abundantly clear. Initiate Hartt placed herself directly in front of a synth who had his laser rifle pointed at the back of my head when I had dropped my guard. Had it not been for her perspicacity in the face of my own ignorance of our surroundings, Recon Squad Gladius would be down to it's last two members. I advise that you show your sister in steel some respect, Rhys. That is not a suggestion.”

The resulting silence was suffocating. Despite the fact that they all had tried to ignore the outburst from Danse, it was clear everyone had heard each word of his admonishment of Rhys’ behavior. There was not a single sound to break the heavy stillness that settled inside the destitute police station as the seconds passed after he had finished speaking, his gaze still locked with Rhys’. Nora shifted nervously in her seat, any comment that she had not _officially_ accepted the offer to join the Brotherhood laid dead on her lips. Preston cleared his throat, which suddenly felt very dry at the revelation of all that his friend had been up to in his absence.

“Yes sir.” Rhys replied, the voice barely above a whisper as he turned and shuffled out of the police station.

Nora vaguely recognized herself in the knights behavior. Much like Rhys, she had the unfortunate tendency to speak her mind, either ignorant or unburdened about the repercussions, and much like him she would recoil under the scrutiny of her commanding officer when her rampant disrespect was so clearly addressed. She wondered if they were too much alike in that regard, and that was why they irritated each other so much.

Despite the fact that her gaze was fixed on the thread she was unraveling from the fabric of her jumpsuit, she was hyper-aware of Preston’s gaze which felt like it was burning a hole in the top of her head.

“Is that true, sir?” She heard Haylen ask gently from the doorway behind her.

“Affirmative, solider.”

“Then allow be to be the first to welcome you to the Brotherhood, Initiate Hartt!” Haylen stated excitedly. Nora was vaguely aware of the small hand on her shoulder. “And allow me to offer you my gratitude for all you’ve already done on our behalf.”

Nora plastered a sympathetic smile to her face, forcing herself to meet the scribes eyes. “I’m proud to be here, Haylen. Thank you.”

Despite the facade, both Danse and Preston were immediately aware of her discomfort. However, Haylen smiled, looking toward the front doors before stating, “I should probably go talk to him...”

Her exit was profound, taking with her all the pretenses of decency and decorum.

“You’re joining the Brotherhood of Steel? Really?” Despite the fairly calm tone, the anger was apparent in Preston’s voice.

“I...I-”

“Forgive me, Nora.” Danse answered in her defense, watching her nervous expression intently. “I spoke out of turn and with an authority as if you had already agreed to join us. To do so without your explicit acceptance was erroneous and for that I apologize. I recognize the statement has put you in an uncomfortable position regarding how to proceed.”

She sighed, relieved she was not the one to broach that topic of conversation. “ It... It’s okay. I understand what you were trying to do. I appreciate you defending my honor, sir.”

Danse could feel a heat rising in his cheeks at the terminology. He knew that in the Commonwealth that phrase typically was utilized regarding an individuals history of intimate encounters, so her misuse of the statement was surely a result of her displacement in time. However, the thought of him defending her honor in such a way caused a feeling of warmth to envelope his stomach.

Clearing his throat and pushing the thought away, he answered. “Yes... Yes, of course. I do hope you take my offer under consideration.”

“What would be expected of me if I joined?” She answered, thoroughly ignoring the pleading glance Preston shot her from across the table; she knew she could deal with that conversation at a different time.

Danse could feel the relief flood his chest. The Brotherhood of Steel was something he could talk about objectively, pushing any trace of the previous thoughts from his mind.

“You'd be under my command, and I'd expect you to follow orders.” Danse winced internally at the words. He’d given the same speech to Rhys and Dawes, but somehow this conversation felt different. “You'd have access to advanced military weapons, as well as your own personal suit of Power Armor. Most importantly, you'd have the Brotherhood at your back... ready to spill its own blood to keep you alive. So... what do you say?”

She looked at the floor, nodding slightly before looking up to meet his eyes. “I’d be honored to serve alongside _you_ , sir.”

Danse nodded trying hopelessly to ignore the emphasis she had put on the word 'you', as a small genuine smile tore across his lips. “From this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Initiate. This is only a training rank... " He wanted to add that she deserved a much higher rank for her sacrifice, but the words escaped him. "I'm not permitted to grant ranks any higher than that, but I have no doubt you’ll progress through the ranks expediently... As for your next mission, I recommend you report to Rhys or Haylen for further instructions.”

Nora nodded, her face turned toward a particularly ugly stain on the floor as she worried at the blue thread now in her hand. She could hear footsteps approaching, even and confidant. Regardless of her analysis of the steps, she knew Danse was the only person who could be walking toward her as Preston had not moved from his frozen position across from her and her new squad mates were both outside. She felt a strong hand against her uninjured shoulder and she looked up, meeting the compassionate brown eyes.

“Nora, I am certain that the missions you receive from Rhys and Haylen will be located along your journey. Most of our scouting locations should be between here and Diamond City.” He stopped, unsure if the statement needed clarification or not. “I am confidant that you would be able to complete the missions while en route to your destination, with little to no significant time barrier to speak of.”

Danse felt a hand clasp around his own where it was still touching Nora’s shoulder reassuringly. The touch shocked him and he had to physically prevent his instinct from recoiling at the closeness. “Thank you Danse... I understand.”

He brusquely nodded, removing his hand suddenly and turning, focused once more on repairing the armor he couldn’t bring himself to complete as he left the room.

Nora watched Danse leave, her shoulder still burning from the warm and gentle touch he’d offered against her exposed skin. She suddenly looked back toward Preston, his presence temporarily forgotten as she had been lost in thought about the implication of Danse’s word.

“Pres-” She tried.

“Let’s talk outside. Preferably away from the couple who snuck out a few moments ago.” Nora chuckled at the reply and rose to stand despite her shaky balance, catching herself against the edge of the table twice before being able to straighten herself completely.

“Let’s go. I know just the place.” She answered, waltzing out of the police station with Dogmeat at her heels. Preston sighed, following her without a further thought on the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nora is a flirt, even if she doesn't mean it *shrugs*


	11. Sixty Minute Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'If you don't believe I'm all that I say  
> Come up and take my hand'

“I hope you know what you're doing here. You seem to trust in the good intentions of the Brotherhood a lot more than I do.” Preston finally stated, moving to sit on the crumbled curb next to Nora, Dogmeat lounging at her side with his head in her lap. She watched the sky as the light was once again fading to dusk, surprised that she had slept the whole day away.

“It’s not that...” She stated, looking back toward the outline of the barricade in the distance. “It’s just... Danse was telling me about all this technology these guys have. Superior weapons and armor. If I’m going to find Shaun, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“I understand, but...” Preston looked away nervously. He had intended to ask her to continue working with the Minutemen and even appoint her as General, but the thought of asking her now made him uneasy.

“Preston. What is it? You’re not good at hiding when something’s bothering you.” He looked up to meet her eyes, his resolve faltering.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I guess you know I'm one of the last of the Minutemen, but I'm not going to be enough to bring the Minutemen back from the brink.” Preston started, glancing back in the direction of Corvega. “I’ve seen what you’re able to do in a fight. The settlers at Tenpine Bluffs were singing your praises, thrilled that you told him you were rebuilding the Minutemen. He said you were compassionate with him, but also fairly direct.”

Nora let out a small chuckle at the description. “I’m nothing if not direct, so that part is true at least. I’m not so sure about compassionate though.”

“I am.” He replied politely. “You’ve been helping the Minutemen on our mission from the moment you arrived, whether you realize it or not. You’ve gone above and beyond by volunteering to help, not just with Tenpine or back in Concord, but when you stuck around in Sanctuary. You helped us get established and began delegating responsibilities without a second thought. That's why I'm talking to you. I can't rebuild the Minutemen... but I think you can.”

“What?” She replied, shock gracing her features at his statement. “Are you joking? I thought you were the leader or whatever.”

“That's not who I am. I can get my men through a firefight. I can defend a perimeter against all odds, but we need someone who can bring the whole Commonwealth together in a common cause. And I think you've got it in you to be that leader.” Nora watched her friend’s expression as he spoke, struck once more by the profound sadness wearing at the lines of his face. She knew he had been struggling after Quincy, but hadn’t realized how severe it was.

“Preston, I want to help, I do,” She sighed, her thoughts racing a mile a minute in her mind. A part of her felt that if she refused his offer, she'd be sentencing him to his death. She thought of Lance Kevins, how she had ignored that same look mere weeks before his death. Had she insisted he let her help all those years ago, she wondered if things would have been different. She couldn't abandon Preston, but Shaun could still be out there. “My first priority is finding my son. I’ll help with what I can, but I don’t know what you’d expect me to do as a leader.”

Preston looked up, an uncharacteristic twinge of hope in his eyes. “Well, it would just be offering help to whoever needs it. I know you’re headed down to Diamond City, but there’s numerous settlements between here and there. You can get the word out that the Minutemen are rebuilding, tell people to come to Sanctuary. You... You have a way with people Nora, a finesse that I don’t. Hell, you got Marcy to help dig a well, and she doesn’t agree to do anything but tend to the crops.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nora replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of the bitter woman. “I’m still pretty sure she hates me.”

“Nah, that’s just how she is. She’s been having a rough time since Kyle...” Preston trailed off as he realized the conversation of dead children might be insensitive. “ But, just the other day she told Sturges ‘I got to hand it to that Vault dweller, this place isn't awful. It's still a shit hole, but it could be worse.’ Hell, that’s the most positive thing I’ve ever heard her say.”

She laughed at the description. “Well, she’s not wrong. Everything is... It’s all shit here.”

“Maybe so, but you’ve done more to raise hope in the last week than I’ve done in all my time since joining the Minutemen.” He answered, offering a hopeful smile.

“Well... I know how it feels to be the last survivor.” She answered somberly.

“Yeah. I guess you do.” He agreed. “Well, if you’re wiling to help, I am confident you could change that for the Minutemen. We’d be lucky to have you, General.”

“I’m a General?” She answered with a playful smile. “Are you trying to flatter me or play to my ego here?”

“The leader of the Minutemen has always held the rank of General.” Preston retorted, relieved at Nora’s unspoken compliance to accept the title. “You're going to have to get used to it.”

“Oh I can get used to that, Garvey.” Glancing a look back toward the barricade, she continued. “Maybe we just don’t tell our new friends about that?”

“Agreed.” He acquiesced, following her glance. “Well, the one good thing about being the last Minuteman is there's no one to argue with me when I say you're the new General. Now it's your job to make it more than an empty title.”

“I’m all for helping out people in need. I won’t let you down.”

“I don’t doubt it, but these Brotherhood guys...” He cautioned “One day, you may have to choose between them and us. I hope it never comes to that, but the Minutemen need you more than the Brotherhood ever will.”

“I understand. I just...” Nora sighed, taking in the reality of their situation. “I just think they’re my best bet to find Shaun.”

Preston nodded silently. He wanted to say more, to convince her that she didn’t have to rely on the Brotherhood to find her son, to promise her that he would do everything he could to help her, but he decided against it. As much as he wanted to reassure her that they could find Shaun together, he knew they were only two people. If they were able to rebuild the Minutemen though, she could have half the Commonwealth on her side.

They sat there in contemplative silence, both engrossed with their own thoughts in the passing minutes before Preston finally spoke.

“I almost forgot, you should have one of these flare guns. You can use it to signal for help from any nearby Minutemen.” He reached for the flare gun clipped to his belt and offered it to her.

“So... you or me?” She teased, taking it gently from his hand.

“Well, for now it’s just us, but I’m pretty certain the settlers at Tenpine’s bluffs are going to agree to join, along with anyone else you can recruit along the way.” He answered.

“Don’t you need the flare gun?” Nora answered with a frown.

“I have another in my pack, along with about a dozen back in Sanctuary. Which reminds me,” he pulled a list from a pocket in his coat. “Sturges is trying to set up a radio beacon for the Minutemen, to help communicate when nearby settlements need help. It’ll only go so far at first, but we can set up more as the operation expands. He asked me to try and find some things for him.”

She nodded, taking the list from his hands to read over it. “Tell him to check the root cellar behind the Jahani house, Codsworth should have the key. I’m pretty sure I saw a hot plate and a camera down there, along with some steel sheets. We should have everything in the settlement already.”

“Really? That would be amazing! I didn’t know about that root cellar.” He replied excitedly, taking the list back from her. She noticed how Preston stared fondly at the writing, tracing the penmanship absentmindedly. Nora politely pretended not to notice. “This means I can head back to Sanctuary in the morning instead of scouring ruins for the last few pieces we need.”

“Eager to get back to Sanctuary, huh?” She inquired, no longer ignoring the yearning in his words. Preston felt a faint blush creep into his cheeks and he quickly stuffed the list back into his pocket, clearing his throat.

“Eager to reestablish the Minutemen, certainly.” He stated, moving to a stand and offering her his hand. “And getting this radio system up and working would significantly help with that. At first you’ll only be able to hear the broadcast, until you can get back to Sanctuary and have Sturges take a look at that PipBoy. My radio is already set to two way communication, but for now, when we receive word of settlement in need, the message will be repeated once every hour until we can determine that the threat has been dealt with.”

Nora took his hand, coming to her feet with a slight groan. “It certainly sounds like a good plan. That Sturges is something else. I’m pretty sure given enough time, he could build a car out old radio parts.”

“You’re probably right.” Preston answered with a laugh as they began toward the barricade, Dogmeat eagerly bounding ahead after sitting quietly for so long. “We’re lucky to have him on our side..."

Nora hummed in agreement, her focus on walking back to the police station without falling over as the dull ache of her wounds began to grow with each step.

“Hold on, Preston.” She stated, stopping suddenly outside the barricade. “What the fuck is a cap?”

“A cap?” He questioned, his initial confusion replaced by understanding. “Oh. Bottle caps, typically from Nuka Cola or beer bottles. They’re used as currency.”

She raised an eyebrow at the explanation. “Really? Bottle caps as currency. Hell, in my time a cap was something completely different. I’m just glad Paladin Danse isn’t going to shoot me in the knee.”

“What?!” Preston demanded.

“It's a joke. That’s...” She chuckled and began walking forward once more. “If you were going to cap someone, it meant you’d shoot them, typically in the knee.”

“That’s...” He paused, turning to shoot her an amused glance. “That’s a bit twisted.”

“Just a bit.” She agreed, as he helped her up the steps.

*

Haylen found Rhys pacing inside the courtyard, anger rolling off of him in waves. She walked toward him, placing a gentle hand on his elbow.

“Rhys.” She urged as he pulled his arm away and turned to her.

“What!” He demanded, his eyes narrowed and jaw set. “Just give me time to cool off, Haylen.”

“How about we take this conversation out by the garage, big guy.” She offered, pointing past the barricade. “You don’t need Danse walking out here and seeing you like this.”

Rhys frowned, looking toward the front of the station with apprehension before nodding and starting toward the garage on the side of the building. Haylen followed silently, shooting a cautious look at the door moments before she heard the creak of the wood as it was pushed open.

She turned back to Rhys who was now leaning against the wall next to the garage, his arms crossed as he looked toward the ground, lost deep in thought. Haylen sighed, moving to lean against the wall next to him, offering quiet support for when she knew Rhys would finally open up.

She wasn’t sure how long they remained like that and briefly wondered if Rhys was going to speak at all. The sky light was beginning to fade, and if they waited much longer they would be putting themselves in danger by being out at dark.

Almost as if sensing her discomfort, Rhys finally spoke. “She doesn’t look like a soldier.”

“Well, neither do I.” Haylen retorted instantly, paying extra attention to keep her tone even in an attempt to encourage him to express his thoughts.

“She’s some scavenger, she wasn’t brought up in the Brotherhood or one of it’s territories.” He tried again, irritation in his voice.

“Neither was Danse.” Rhys shot Haylen a defeated look at her responses.

“Well....” He stopped, thinking carefully before continuing “she’s stubborn and annoying.”

Haylen tried to control the amused smile at the description. “Oh? Kinda sounds like someone else I know.”

Rhys continued scowling toward the ground, unwilling to offer a response to the scribe’s comment. She looked at him carefully before deciding to speak.

“Rhys,” she stated gently, pausing as she noticed his expression soften. “Do you think the reason you don’t like her might be because she’s the chick who saved your ass when you were down?”

He shot her a guarded look. “If you’re implying I have an issue with being saved by a woman, you of all people should know that’s not the case. I sponsored your initiation-”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She offered. “I think... You just don’t like having anyone have to save you.”

Rhys slowly look up from the spot he’d been staring at on the ground, his eyes meeting Haylen’s. “Well I don’t have a problem with you patching me up, doc.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Haylen replied, a faint blush painting her cheeks. “I’m just doing my job.”

He looked away, his normally stoic expression suddenly lacking it’s usual confidence. “I just. I can’t believe Danse took her side like that. Not just with what happened earlier... It’s how he invited her on the mission at all.”

Despite his silence, Haylen didn’t interject. She could tell he was working up to admitting what was really annoying him about Nora.

“I would’ve been fine in a couple days and gone with him,” He finally continued, chewing nervously at his bottom lip. “But now, Danse is singing her praises like she’s the next Arthur Maxson. He’s acting like she’s some sort of prodigy, talking about how adept she was in the field - on her _first_ mission.”

Haylen immediately understood. Rhys was hurt that Danse had sponsored Nora’s initiation, essentially taking her under his wing for training and development instead of him.

“Maybe Danse is sweet on her.” She offered, a smirk playing at her lips. Rhys let out a small laugh at the suggestion, his eyes going wide.

“Danse?” He suddenly was chuckling, his face shifting into a full smile. “That man has never been sweet on someone in his life. I don’t think he’s so much as entertained the thought of romance since I’ve known him.”

“Hmm.” Haylen shrugged, relieved at Rhys’ change in mood. “You’re right, probably not. But, she did save his life. That’s worth something.”

“Yeah.” He agreed reluctantly, a faint smile still on his lips. “You got a point there, doc.”

“You know...” She stopped momentarily, unsure if she wanted to broach the topic. “Danse’s decision to sponsor her doesn’t have anything to do with you. You know he thinks you’re a great soldier and has the utmost respect for you.”

Rhys grunted in response, looking back toward the ground. With a quick glance to the sky he pushed off the wall. “We should probably get inside, we don’t need any more ferals sneaking up on us.”

*

Danse looked up from where he was seated in the corner of the room, book in hand as Rhys and Haylen reentered the lobby. He was relieved to see that the conversation with Haylen had apparently tempered Rhys’ anger. Despite the knight’s tempestuous nature, Danse recognized that he was a vital part of the team, with combat skilled that near-matched his own.

However, Rhys’ outburst were becoming more frequent the longer they were away from the Citadel. Given the circumstances though, he was certain the behavior would seize once the Prydwyn arrived and they were all back with the rest of the Brotherhood.

He hated to consider what sort of punishment he’d have to enact should Rhys’ behavior toward Nora continue. The thought of Rhys continuing to antagonize his new initiate caused an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He hoped that she would only report to Haylen for her missions, but part of him knew Nora would continue to try and prove herself to Rhys.

His thoughts began fixating on their conversation in the cell, when he’d offered the Brotherhood’s assistance in her endeavor to locate her missing son, despite not clearing it with Maxson. The Brotherhood’s primary objective was to locate the Institute, but he was certain he’d be able to convince Maxson to approve the resources to help locate her son.

The sound of the door opening interrupted his train of thought as he saw Nora hobble in, her arm draped over Preston’s shoulder as he helped her across the threshold. He stood up instantly, moving to help the other man guide her to the seat.

“You guys, relax.” She groaned, shooting an awkward glance up at Danse before petting Dogmeat who had once again situated himself near her feet. “I’m fine, I think I’m just exhausted.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Preston answered, pulling his pack off of his back. “I’d prefer to check your bandages.”

“Fine.” She agreed, rolling her eyes at her friend.

“Is there somewhere, uh, a little more private we can go?” Preston asked, gesturing to the open room.

“You trying to get me alone, Garvey?” She joked, scratching behind Dogmeat’s ears absentmindedly. Danse could feel the blood drain from his face at the comment.

“I assure you, Scribe Haylen is more than capable of checking Initiate Hartt's wounds.” He interjected, a brusqueness in his tone that he had not anticipated. Preston looked to meet the other man’s eyes and nodded.

“Thank you, Paladin.” Preston offered. “ That seems like the best possible scenario. I wasn’t sure if she was in at the moment.”

Danse looked around the room, noticing her absence from the lobby. “I can locate Haylen immediately after we get her situated back in her room.”

“Oh come the fuck on, Danse.” She complained, glaring at him. “You’re not seriously going to put me back in the jail cell, are you?”

Preston tensed at the statement, immediately looking toward Danse with an accusatory gaze. “Wait, you had her in a jail cell?!”

“I did no such thing.” He countered, eyeing Preston cautiously. “Scribe Haylen made the determination to treat her there in order to afford her the most privacy.”

“I mean, you did take my weapons too.” Nora added, amused by the men’s sudden display of hostility toward the other.

“You did what-” Preston started, anger breaking through his typically passive voice.

“That’s enough, civilian.” Danse retorted, shooting an irritated glance toward where she was seating. She shrugged in response, feigning innocence as she pushed up against the table, trying to get the balance to stand.

“If you guys are done trying to prove who’s the alpha here, I’d really like to lay down now.” She began walking toward the adjoining room, Preston scrambling to move behind her. “I’m pretty sure I saw a couch back here, at least.”

Danse moved to locate Haylen, his annoyance at the disagreement with Preston growing with each passing second. He would also have to have a conversation with Nora about her attitude, but he supposed he could save that conversation for another time.

*

“Well, it looks like you might have irritated the wound when your dog knocked you to the floor, but other than that everything looks like it’s healing as it should.” Haylen announced as she finished bandaging up the burn on Nora’s shoulder.

“Thank god for pharmacology, huh?” She muttered, moving to lay back down on the couch. “Can I ask you a question, Haylen?”

The woman paused from collecting the used bandages and met her eyes. “Of course, Initiate Hartt.”

“Nora. Please just call me Nora.” She replied, actively trying not to roll her eyes.

“Nora. Of course. What’s on your mind?” Haylen correct, offering a friendly smile.

“It’s about Rhys.”

Haylen sighed, moving to sit on the arm of the couch. “ Try not to take it personally... The attitude comes from being jammed through the wringer for the last few months. And... Rhys bleeds Brotherhood. It's all he cares about. It's his family, hell, it's his whole life.”

“Oh?” Nora answered, scanning the scribe’s face before pressing the topic further. “That can’t be true... I’m pretty sure I sensed something between the two of you?”

Haylen stood suddenly, moving to the door with a crimson flush across her cheeks. “That's none of your business... ma'am.”

Nora watched dejectedly as the scribe discarded the bandages and exited the room.

“Paladin, sir.” Nora heard Haylen address Danse from right outside the doorway, and looked up as he entered the room.

Nora raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything initially, watching as Danse settled into the chair next to the bed before speaking. “I think I pissed off Haylen, so now they both hate me. So that's something.”

Danse smirked at the comment, nearly imperceptible in the light of the waning lantern. “How did you manage to do that?”

“I asked if she was with Rhys, you know. Romantically.” She answered plainly, darting a glance toward the door. “It didn’t go over well.”

“No” He chuckled lightly. “I suppose not, given the shade of red on her cheeks. I... try not to get involved in my team’s personal affairs.”

Nora snorted, looking at Danse with incredulity. “You’re kidding... right?”

Danse furrowed his brow in response, opening his mouth to speak before she continued. “You literally had me cornered in a jail cell demanding answers just this morning.”

“That’s not the same thing.” He rebutted, defensively. “I had to ensure the safety of my team and -”

“I get it, Danse. I’m just giving you a hard time.” She laughed, squeezing his hand briefly. He could feel himself tense at the motion and looked down to where her hand had been. Noticing his reaction, she asked “What, you guys don’t do that anymore?”

“No, it’s not customary to be so...” He paused, clearing his throat and frowning. “Not in the Brotherhood, at least. I’m aware that others outside of our ranks are better at... such a display.”

“Sorry,” she replied awkwardly looking down toward a hole in the couch. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Of course, I understand.” He nodded and moved to stand. “Where did your, uh, friend go?”

“Oh, Preston went to head back to Sanctuary a little bit ago. I asked him to take Dogmeat with him too, so...” She frowned looking back down into her hands, realizing that without the dog she felt very much alone.

“Why?”

“I... I think Preston needs him right now. For a little while, at least.” She shrugged, her eyes suddenly feeling very warm.

“That was... very generous of you, Nora.” Danse answered, surprised that she was willing to part with the animal given their evident closeness.

“Eh, Dogmeat will make his way back to me when he’s ready.” She replied, her voice much gentler than it had been. “Besides, we’ve been lucky so far, save for the Raider who tried to push him off a building, but... I can’t put him in danger like that.”

Danse nodded, understanding what she was really saying. “You can’t lose anyone else.”

She looked up, tears still prickling at the corner of her eyes as she pressed her lips together. With a forced cough she stated. “I... I should get to bed. And Danse?”

“Yes?” He watched her expression, realizing she was trying to preserve her dignity from the tears begging to break free.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned toward the door. “Get some rest. I’ll check on you in the morning."

Nora watched as Danse retreated, the sound of his steps fading in the quiet of the lobby. She moved to settle into a slightly less uncomfortable position on the couch and drifted to sleep, overcome with exhaustion.


	12. Keep A Knockin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Keep a knockin' but you can't come in  
> Come back tomorrow night and try again.  
> I hear you knockin' but you can't come in'

It had been two miserable, long days of sitting around the police station recuperating and waiting to be ‘cleared’ for her missions. After the first day Nora had damn near begged Scribe Haylen to clear her for duty

‘You know, we aren’t forcing you to stay, but if you want any chance of not biting the big one after your first scuffle with a handful of ghouls, you’ll listen.’ 

The warning echoed in her mind, and just as she was heavily considering making a break for the front doors, she saw Haylen appear in the doorway of the room.

“Haylen.” She begged, moving to stand as the scribe shot her an exasperated glance. “Please, tell me I’m finally cleared.”

“Sit.” Haylen ordered with an impressive air of authority, pointing to the metal chair against the wall, as Nora eagerly scrambled to be seated. The scribe sighed, cautiously checking the bandages that were covering newly-healed pink skin. “Well, you’re well enough that I’m not worried you’ll collapse in an alley, but-”

Nora groaned, shooting the woman what could best be described as puppy-dog eyes. If Dogmeat was there, he’d have had compelling competition, she thought. “I’m fine! The skin is healed, see?”

“Initia- Nora” Haylen corrected, shooting her a sympathetic expression. “Even though the skin has healed, there’s untold muscular damage to the laceration on your side. Paladin Danse thinks I should keep you here for a few more-”

“What? He-” She interjected, running her hand through her hair.

“Dear god Nora, will you let me finish? You’re worse than Rhys.” Haylen joked, giving her an amused expression as Nora feigned indignation. “Paladin Danse thinks I should keep you for a few more days, _but,_ I was able to assure him that, given you don’t go doing anything too reckless, you’ve recovered enough to begin your missions.”

“Oh my God Haylen, thank you!” Nora stood and pulled Haylen into a gentle hug which the scribe tentatively reciprocated, much to the her notice. “Oh, sorry. I forgot you lot don’t hug.”

“Well,” Haylen started as Nora pulled away. “It’s not common, but it’s not like it’s forbidden.”

“Really? I kind of got the impression-uh, nevermind.” She smiled, waving the thought away as she moved to her pack in the corner, carefully going through it to check that she had everything she needed. She traced the fabric of her folded vault suit sadly before looking back to the scribe. “I guess I should have learned to sew back in the day, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Haylen replied, confusion marking her delicate features.

“Uh.” She stopped, eyeing narrowing as she analyzed the scribe’s demeanor. “What did Danse tell you, uh, you know... about me? I know you were the one who found the knife and brought it to him.”

“He didn’t tell me anything.” Haylen answered with a shrug. “All he said was that he trusted you and that what you told him was private business. I knew better than to ask anything further.”

Nora could feel herself blush at the comment, and she looked toward the floor, averting the other woman’s gaze. There was a warmth in her chest, not only at the realization that Danse had kept their conversation between them, but that he had readily told his team that he _trusted_ her. She shook her head, focusing instead on closing up the pack before tossing it over her shoulder.

“Hey, Haylen... Thanks for cutting me so much slack.” Nora finally offered, meeting Haylen’s eyes.

“I'm a medic. Call it my bedside manner.” She quipped back, moving toward the collection of desks in the lobby.

“Still. I know I haven’t been the easiest to get along with the past few days.” Nora answered, following her to the terminal. “I crossed a line asking you about your personal life.”

Haylen picked up a small journal from the desk before turning back toward her. “It’s alright... Honestly, you’re not wrong about Rhys.”

“Oh?” Nora replied calmly, hoping to appear casual despite the fact that she was more than eager to know more.

“When I first joined up... Rhys is the one who sponsored me. He took me under his wing, showed me the ropes. I thought there was a little more between us, so I asked him if he cared about me that way. He told me the Brotherhood of Steel was all that he cared about, and there was no room for anything else in his life.” Haylen eyed the floor dejectedly for a few moments before shrugging

“Haylen...” She offered sympathetically, gently squeezing her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Rhys is a damn fool.”

Haylen offered a small smile before nodding. “He’s a lot like Danse in that way... A good man, just all soldier. Protocol is their bread and butter.”

“Yeah.” Nora agreed, but her thoughts drifted back to how Danse was willing to offer the Brotherhood’s resources to help her find Shaun without a moment's hesitation. _Maybe not all protocol_ , she considered fleetingly before pushing the thought away. “So, where are these stubborn soldier boys?”

“They took off this morning on some clean-up mission in College Square, shortly after I told the Paladin I was going to medically clear you.” Haylen replied, offering her the book. “I wrote down the details of a few places you can check for tech.”

“Thanks Haylen.” Nora muttered, taking the book and flipping through it.

“I'm actually a little jealous you get to head out to find these bits of lost tech. Exploring the ruins is why I joined up in the first place.” The scribe admitted.

“Oh.” She looked up from where she was reading to gauge the other woman’s expression. “Why can’t you?”

“Someone has to get the radio transmitter up and working. Just be careful out there, okay?” Haylen nodded thoughtfully before a flash of recognition crossed her face. “Oh! I almost forgot. Paladin Danse told me that left you something, it’s by the front door.”

“What?” She replied, confused as she approached where Haylen had indicated. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me. Just told me to tell you to check the ammo bag by the desk.” Haylen followed Nora, eyes curious and amused as the woman leaned over to open the bag.

“What?” Nora whispered, eyes going wide as she pulled out a gorgeous, impeccably well maintained laser rifle. She traced her fingers over the name engraved on the side.

Righteous Authority.

“Oh my God.” Haylen blurted out, her eyes going wide. “He gave you Righteous?”

“It’s... beautiful.” She mumbled, still running her hands over the barrel, checking the chamber cautiously before the scribe’s words registered. “Righteous?”

“Yeah... That’s his personal rifle...” Haylen marveled, eyes transfixed on the weapon. “He spent weeks fixing her up after he got her.”

“Her?” She questioned with an amuse smirk, finally looking up at the scribe. “This is, I don’t know. Too kind. I can’t accept-”

“I think you have to, Nora.” She answered quickly, matching her gaze. “The Paladin obviously trusts you very much to give her to you.”

“I-I guess so.” Nora answered, her stomach fluttering in a way she was absolutely _not_ going to think about. She had to focus on finding Shaun. Avenging Nate.

_Nate._

The name echoed inside her mind, squelching the sensation in her stomach, instead flooding her chest with guilt. As she moved to stand, her eyes caught sight of metal in the bottom of her bag. She reached in, pulling out the pocket knife, clenching it toward her chest, holding it for a few moments too long before clearing her throat and standing.

“Thank you, Haylen. Can you tell Danse I really, truly appreciate this?” Nora finally asked, her throat no longer closing in on itself.

“Of course.” Haylen offered with a genuine smile before walking toward the roof. “Ad Victoriam, sister.”

“Ad Victoriam.” Nora replied, watching the scribe ascend the stairs before looking back toward the little black book, adding the two settlements Preston had asked her to stop by on her way to Diamond City to her list of locations to check.

Her mind wandered to Haylen’s comment about how Danse had taken Rhys out on some expedition before she could get her mission from the Knight. Despite the fact that she found it strange, she was determined not to ruminate on it, closing the notebook and placing in in her bag before heading out the door.

Her mind filled with images of Shaun’s plush cheeks, how his tiny hand had felt against her face as he tugged on her hair, and the heartbreakingly beautiful smell of his head. She took a deep breath before placing those sentiments back into the deepest recesses of her mind.

Once outside for a few minutes in the warm midday air, she flicked her PipBoy on, the sounds of Uranium Fever filling the air and drowning out her worries, for a little while at least.

*

Danse had taken down nearly two dozen feral ghouls alone, but between himself and Knight Rhys, cleaning out College Square had not taken very long. Certainly not long enough to keep his mind off of the growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. So it was no question when Rhys informed him that he had a few other locations nearby that needed some ‘cleansing’ that Danse readily agreed to go.

Two hours later and the BADTFL office was also officially cleared, its meager technological finds thoroughly collected by Rhys who had only mumbled that Haylen would like to analyze some of the pieces.

Danse briefly thought to Nora and her passing comments about the pair. Even though he had proudly proclaimed not to get involved in the personal lives of his team, which he recalls Nora having thoroughly debunked, it was beginning to grow painfully obvious that Rhys and Haylen had feelings for each other. Despite his strict aversion to meddling in other's personal affairs, the question of why the two had not acted on their mutual pining was beginning to nettle at Danse’s mind.

“Knight Rhys.” He started, against his better judgment.

“Paladin, sir.” The knight answered as he rearranged the items in his pack.

Danse cautioned a glance toward the entrance before fixing his gaze on the other man, continuing.“I would like to ask you something... off the record.”

“Sir?” Rhys asked as he rose to stand, placing the worn bag across his back. Despite his composure, it was clear the line of questioning was beginning to make the younger man nervous.

“I recognized that an inquiry of this nature is unconventional...” Danse paused, unsure of how to continue. He realized in that moment that he had never initiated a conversation with Rhys about either of their personal lives and hoped the topic wasn't overstepping the bounds of professionalism too blatantly.

“Is this about Initiate Hartt, sir?” Even though he kept his tone even, Rhys was obviously apprehensive about the conversation.

“What? No.” Danse replied quickly, shaking his head as his eyebrows furrowed. “This is about you and Haylen.”

“Wha-” Rhys’ eyes went wide at the realization of what his superior was asking. “S’Not like that, sir.”

Narrowing his eyes, Danse slowly scanned the knight’s face. “Why?”

“Uhm. Sir?” He answered, his voice finally wavering ever so slightly with uncertainty. “Is there... a reason why you’re asking?”

Danse fixed his gaze on the wall behind Rhys, suddenly uncomfortable with the content of the discussion. “I only ask because... Well, regardless. You are aware that is it not against regulation to engage in such a relationship, should that be your intent.”

“Uh, yes sir. Thank you... I think.” Rhys mumbled, swallowing hard and moving toward the door, apparently eager to flee the uncomfortable conversation. Once outside the field office, Danse looked back at Rhys who was slowly returning to his normal shade, with only a faint tint of red still visible on the back of his neck.

“What other locations were on your list for clearing, Rhys? Anything nearby?” He asked, scanning the direction of Cambridge with apprehension.

“Well, we had Corvega listed, but you said Initiate Hartt already cleared it, right?” Rhys asked, a hit of sharpness in his tone.

“That’s affirmative.” Danse agreed coolly, moving to head back toward base. “That being said, there is potentially valuable technology on site. However, given that it was cleared out a few days ago I believe I can manage this mission alone.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Rhys asked incredulously, falling in step behind him.

“Are you questioning my judgment, Knight Rhys?” The hardness in Danse’s tone was unmistakable and Rhys recoiled back at the unexpected sharpness.

“No sir, of course not.” Rhys immediately looked toward the ground, before scanning the horizon ahead of them.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll return to Cambridge to hold down the fort with Scribe Haylen. I’ll head to Corvega to sweep for tech. If I haven’t returned by morning, you know the protocol.” Danse stopped, offering the knight a brief nod before continuing toward Corvega, not giving Rhys adequate time to formulate a response.

*

Nora cursed herself for agreeing to stop by Graygarden when Preston had so politely asked. She should have stuck with just swinging by Oberland Station to let them know Preston had taken care of those ghouls, but when that damn sympathetic last-of-the-Minuteman had told her Graygarden was just a few minutes north, of course she volunteered to check on them.

Granted, she should have known it would lead her on yet another detour. But as she stood hunched inside the doorway of the Weston Water Treatment Facility she decided that she absolutely, would not be doing anymore favors for a greenhouse full of Mr. Handy’s again.

The fact alone that a group full of buzzsaw wielding robots were afraid to clear out the place should have been a warning, but she had been too focused on getting it over with that she had barely listening to what Supervisor White had said.

But she was damn certain the bastard never mentioned giant green imbeciles running around detonating themselves. She had narrowly avoided inevitable death by dodging into the water at the last minute when the ugly beast was running at her with some sort of beeping explosive, only to find herself sneaking inside the facility further.

“Should have fucking turned and left.” She muttered to herself, scanning the room, the carcasses of what could only be mutated giant crabs scattered around the room. Shaking her head she looked down at the rifle in her hand with a smile.

Had it not been for Righteous, she wouldn’t have stood a chance, and despite a shallow scrape on her calve, she hadn’t incurred any serious injury. Except her new goal was to sneak back out of the facility, hopefully without having to see who ran faster, her or the giant green brutes clamoring around outside. She had made it almost to the edge of the facility, moving in a painfully slow crouch along the metal bridge when she heard the voice behind her.

“BROTHER FEAST ON TINY HUMAN”

The echoing sound of what she could only define as evil itself thundered around her as she broke into a run, running with all the adrenaline she could possible produce pouring into her worn muscles. She realize semi-consciously that she was out of shape, not having run since she found out she was pregnant with Shaun, not willing to risk anything the second time around.

She ran so fast, that when she saw the shadow of Graygarden approaching, she was almost certain she’d gotten lost as the greenhouse was much closer than she remembered, before Supervisor White appeared from the doorway.

In an instant she collapsed to the ground, looking behind her wildly only to find that there was no one chasing her anymore. With a heavy sigh she looked up, meeting White’s eye stalks.

“I took care of Weston for you.” She offered, panting as she tried desperately to catch her breath. “So, what do you say about offering to lend some resources to the Minutemen?”

*

Danse had made it through Corvega in record time, the place abandoned, save for a few wild curs feasting on the deceased Raiders strewn along the catwalks.

Surprisingly, no one had gone into the factory to try and reestablish it as a base, a fact he credited in part to the overwhelming stench within.

_Thirty six._

Danse kept count as he made his way through the factory. The number of dead Raiders continued to increase the further he made his way into the building. He stood in the final room, overlooking the factory’s floor and looked down at the body of the man before him, a metal blade still clutched in his fingers, slick with what he could only assume was Nora’s blood. The realization suddenly made him feel ill, his stomach churning as he quickly made his way back out of the factory, not wanting to picture what he could have found if the knife had been just a millimeter longer.

As he exited, he suddenly felt the cool night air against his face, and finally allowed himself to breathe freely again. He looked back toward the bright doors cautiously, as if the ghosts of what he had seen could follow him out of the building. He knew they would, not in that moment, but the images would undoubtedly haunt him in the following.

He had completely forgotten about his alleged search for tech, instantly engrossed by the numerous figures lying helplessly in and around the building. She had told that Minuteman, Preston, it had only been a handful of Raiders.

He wondered if her deception was intentional or subconscious. It was not uncommon for soldiers to go on a rampage in the heat of battle, often unaware of how many assailants they took out in the process, but he recalled the details carefully.

Up until one of the lower rooms, the kills had been simple, quick, even if some of them had been messy. Until the final few rooms where he had seen clear signs of struggles, she had been cautious, up until the end where the Raiders had been shot more times than he thought would be strictly necessary, the overkill especially obvious in the last room. He suddenly felt himself heave, a dry empty noise at the memory of the blood along the edge of the blade.

The thought caused him more distress than he was expecting. It was not as if he was ignorant to the bloodiness of battle. He thought idly that maybe it was the reality that Nora had barely survived the encounter with the Raiders before jumping in to save his team, then that very night moving to sacrifice her own safety to save his life without a second thought. He wondered how close she had come to losing her life that night, the woman so displaced out of time.

As he made his way back to the police station he wistfully hoped that she would still be there, despite the feeling in his chest telling him that she had undoubtedly left at the first possible chance. He had kept her safe from Rhys’ antagonism for the time being, foolishly thinking that the professional conflict was the biggest detriment toward her success. Haylen had been insistent that Nora had recuperated enough for a few small missions, and in no more than a few words, the scribe had twisted his resolve until he acquiesced that she could clear his new initiate.

‘You’re letting Rhys back in the field, she’s just as healthy as him!’

Haylen’s judgment raced around his mind. He knew it had been the scribe’s attempt to keep Rhys at the station a bit longer, but he had insisted. In refusing to make himself a hypocrite, he knowingly put two of his teammates in danger. The thought left a pang of guilt in his mind. He couldn't handle loosing anymore people due to his lack of forethought.

But as much as he had tried to help her, Danse knew that he could never protect Nora from her own apparent disregard for personal safety. The thought gnawed at him the entire walk, and he knew it would continue to haunt him until he knew she was safe.

However long that would be.

He pushed open the doors to Cambridge police station, scanning the front lobby before catching a glimpse of the vacant couch in the adjoining room.

“Initiate Hartt?” He asked bluntly, hoping to see the crazed woman in a Vault suit pop her head around the corner.

“She headed out a few hours ago. She-” Haylen answered as Danse walked away at the answer, headed toward the garage. He knew his team knew better than to follow him, and for once he was thankful to not have Cutler there.

All he wanted right now was to drown his guilty thoughts in his own vices, unburdened by the opinions of the very few remaining people who were relying on him. He released himself from his armor and grabbed the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet before settling to the garage floor.

*

Nora could barely keep her eyes open as she approached the small settlement.

‘Oberland Station’ she reminded herself as she approached the building. Night had fallen nearly two hours before, but she had pressed onward.

She knew the settlers had to be asleep by now, but given the barriers she had overcome just to reach them, she had stopped caring about decency or politeness. Her fist rapped aggressively against the flimsy door, the echo reverberating for miles.

An angry looking woman swung the door open, a crudely made pipe pistol suddenly shoved in her face. Despite the spike in her adrenaline and the burning desire to slap the ever-loving-shit out of this woman, Nora forced a large, fake smile to her face.

“We took care of that ghoul problem for you.” She offered sweetly, the dry sarcasm lost on the woman before her as she lowered her weapon.

“You’re... With the Minutemen?” The woman asked hopefully, her expression relaxing at Nora’s nod. Nora realized that the other woman was quite beautiful, her dark skin and bright eyes radiant against her sharp features. In actuality, the woman reminded her of Alice in a way that struck a pain down her spine and into her the soles of her feet.

Her dear, sweet Alice. So fierce but so damn compassionate, so eager to take on the world only to have the world implode on itself.

Without intending to, Nora could feel herself relax in response. She gentle grasped the woman’s shoulder with a sad smile. “Those ghouls won’t be bothering you anymore. I’m with the Minutemen. In fact... I’m the General.”

“General?” The woman’s eyes went wide and Nora felt all her anger melt away as she was hyper-focused on how much this woman looked so _fucking_ familiar to her. “I’m glad to hear you guys are back. It’s been... It’s been rough without you guys.”

If Nora could physically feel her heart break, she would have felt that exact feeling right now. “We’re back. We’re rebuilding. I’d love it if we had your support, but if not, I understand, given our history.”

“Absolutely!” The woman gushed, a beautiful smile breaking across her face. “I have a few young boys, they’re still a bit shy of fighting age, but I’m going to tell them all about the Minutemen. The true heroes of the Commonwealth. I -Thank you. General. General... what did you say your name was? I’m so sorry.”

Nora could feel herself staring as the woman rambled, fixated on her features with a pang of sadness in her stomach. Despite the similar feature’s, she saw it wasn’t her Alice, the voice too soft and gentle. She took a minute to process the words, lost in her own thought before she answered.

“General Smith." She decided, it felt wrong to use her married name, for some reason that she couldn't quite explain. "Commonwealth Minutemen. Is there anything else we can help with?” 

“Well...” The woman suddenly looked terrified at the thought of asking for more help.

“What is it?” She offered compassionately, touching the woman’s arm once more as a symbol of reassurance.

The woman melted at the contact, meeting Nora’s eyes. “We don’t have enough food for winter. We’ve tried and tried and it’s just - ”

“Hey, it’s okay. Head up to Graygarden. It’s a little north of here, but if you go straight north, you should be safe.” She reassured, her heart heavier with each passing second as her sadness settled into her bones. “Tell supervisor White that General Smith of the Minutemen sent you for resources. She’ll get you whatever you need.”

“Oh my God.” Nora heard the other woman sob as she felt thin arms wrap around her shoulders. “Thank you so much, oh my god. I was so worried about Chase.”

“Chase?” She asked, patting the woman’s back before the settler pulled away.

“He...” The woman smiled happily, caressing her stomach fondly. “I’m pregnant. If we didn’t have food for winter, I'm pretty sure would have lost him. I already have Neil, Raymond, Markus, and Shauna...”

Nora could feel herself nodded, a polite smile on her lips once again, despite her own agony tearing at her stomach. “Congratulations. Your son is so lucky to have you. What did you say your name was?”

“Allison.” The woman answered readily, meeting her gaze. Nora felt what was left of her heart suddenly shatter, resting it's sharp edges in the pit of her stomach.

“Allison. Allison and Chase.” Nora paused, a small smile teasing at her lips. “Thank you. If you ever need anything, Sanctuary is about a three hour walk northeast of here.”

“Thank you, ma’am. General” The other woman gushed. Nora politely nodded, offering a smile before turning south with a wave.

She knew she could have asked for a bed at Oberland, but something about the happy family pissed her off in a way that only added to her ever-expanding shame.

In the back of her mind she knew she was only jealous of the happy family with a plethora of kids to run about, but the logical part of her mind soothed her frustration, reminded her that these people were terrified and they had needed her.

While she was happy to help, she needed to be away from all that joy and family bonding for the time being. As she settled into an abandoned, crumbled building, she traced the marks on her stomach, lost in her memories of her own sweet baby boy. It wasn't long until she allowed herself a few tears at the thought, before falling into a fitful sleep.

*

After a short night of tortured sleep and numerous nightmares, it had taken her a whole day to get to where Diamond City was _supposed_ to be, according to Preston’s rudimentary directions. Her fingers cautiously traced the outline of the flux sensor in her pocket. Fortunately retrieving the technology had been far easier than either of the missions from the two settlement’s she had visited so far.

Just as she was about to give up on her search for the illusive Diamond City, an angry voice broke through across the rubble, inspiring her curiosity as she made her way toward it.

“You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here. You can't just lock me out!” The voice echoed and Nora realized she was running toward the sound. Granted, the sound of angry civilians always drew her in, especially if they were women. There were enough scumbags back in her time, she thought, and who knew what sort were running about now.

She paused, her breath caught in her through as she observed the structure before her.

_Fenway Park._

She could feel the tears mounting their defenses behind her wide eyes, the memories of Nate and their first date begging to play out quickly in the front of her mind. Nora was mildly aware the girl in front of her was speaking to her, saying something that was probably important, but she couldn’t steal her gaze away. Not at least, until the door opened and she forced herself back to reality, blinking rapidly.

She could hear the argument occurring between the pair front of her, groaning internally at the exchange. Despite two centuries and nuclear fallout, of course the world still had gross politicians and story-hungry reporters, eager to destroy anyone with the slightest of secrets.

She was suddenly aware of the man turning toward her, his question pointed and unavoidable. She vaguely recalled that he had asked her what she thought of the city, and all in the span of a few breaths, he had drug the other woman through the mud with his snide comments. As much as she had never loved working with reporters, it was clear the woman was already fighting an uphill battle.

And by God, that didn’t sit right with her, a fact which she was more than happy to make abundantly clear to the smarmy politician.

“Well... This hasn't been the friendliest welcome.” She finally answered, a sense of pleasure building in her stomach as she watched the man unravel before remembering what the reporter had called him. “Mayor McDonough”

_Fucker._

The pair squabbled further, but she pushed past them, focused instead on the steps leading into Fenway Park. _Diamond City._ She corrected herself, knowing that she needed to ground herself in reality or else she’d absolutely loose her mind before finding her Shaun.

As she entered the stadium, eyes wide with wonder, she could hear footsteps coming up from behind her.

“Piper.” She stated cooly, the excited woman’s heavy breaths unmistakable as she ran to catch up.

“Thanks for that back there!” The woman offered, her younthful eagerness apparent as she spoke. Nora turned toward her with a kind smile, finally taking a look at the woman before her. Piper was a beautiful, fiery brunette with compassionate hazel eyes, reminding Nora of her mother in a way. 

With a start Nora realized she also saw a lot of her own charisma and tenacity in the young woman, who was not unlike how she was when she had first joined the police force. She had the same eagerness and the desperate hope to help people, despite the reality of her circumstances.

She offered her hand to the woman who took it eagerly. “I’m Nora. I’m looking for someone. I was told I could find help in Diamond City.”

The woman offered her a sly but pretty smile. “I’ll tell you where to go, but I do hope you stop by to give me an interview.”

“You don’t want to interview me.” Nora said suddenly, watching the brunette before her.

“You’re a Vault dweller, right?” Piper asked bluntly, her eyes narrowing to gauge a response. Nora could feel herself purse her lips, regarding the other woman before relaxing. "I can tell by your skin. You haven't been out here for a while. Plus, the PipBoy."

“Okay. I’ll give you an interview.” She could feel the smile tearing at her lips, despite how the woman saw right through her. “I like how you don’t back down from a challenge. Like with Mayor Asshole back there.”

“Never!” Piper agreed, waving her toward the red door as Nora eagerly followed. "Especially with Mayor Asshole-McDonough."


	13. Personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'And when Salome danced and had the boys entranced  
> No doubt it must have been easy to see  
> That she knew how to use her personality'

Nora remembered the words spilling out of her mouth, the memories so painfully fresh and harsh against her own ears. Despite her best efforts to push all those terrifying thoughts to the back of her mind over the past couple weeks, the details were still raw. She remembered Piper’s heartbroken expression as she spilled her guts, sobbing about Shaun and Nate and the cryostasis, shaking in the seat before the woman’s arms had circled around her, pulling her tight against her chest.

She had reciprocated eagerly, clinging on to Piper as the sobs wracked her tired body, having missed the comfort of female friendship since she had woken up. Haylen had been polite and professional, even almost friendly in their moments of honest vulnerability, but it wasn’t the same. There was something open and genuine about the young reporter, an unspoken and immediate kinship between them.

Maybe it was the lack of militaristic professionalism, maybe it was the woman at Oberland who had reminded Nora so much of her old friend. Whatever it was, she found herself drawn to the report’s charisma and compassion.

“I’m so sorry, Piper.” Nora finally said faintly, her sobs having grown softer and less frequent as the minutes crawled by. “I know you weren’t expecting, uh, all this when you asked for an interview...”

A guilty look passed the reporter’s face and she softened, pulling the woman closer. “Seriously, this is bigger than any story! The person you want to speak to is Nicky... Sorry for holding out on you before.”

“Nicky?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, analyzing the affectionate note in Piper’s voice.

“Nick Valentine.” Piper said, moving to stand. “He’s a detective, the only one around really, but he can find practically anyone. Diamond City Security sure isn't bothering with finding anyone.”

Nora was vaguely aware that she hummed, looking up with a wide look in her eyes. “Nick Valentine?”

The question had been rhetorical, a fact which Piper had thankfully recognized. But by god the name did stir something vague in the corners of Nora’s memory. Whatever it was, she wasn’t entirely certain. Surely she thought, it couldn’t have been someone from her time, given the two centuries that had come and gone, but something familiar about the name nagged at her subconscious, unwilling to expose itself, despite the clear associations brewing in her mind.

Nora forced herself up quickly, determined to ascertain why that name was so familiar, moving to follow Piper to out the door. She marveled to herself as she scanned the city. Despite the ache in her chest at seeing Fenway Park so starkly different than how it existed in her memory, she had to credit their ingenuity. She smiled as she saw the building Piper had led her to, which supposedly housed the mysterious Nick Valentine.

_Valentine Detective Agency._

“Detective Valentine, huh?” She stated softly more to herself than to Piper.

The pink neon letters brought a soft smile to her face. There was something so pleasantly nostalgic about the bright signage, a sensation of familiarity from the old world that was soothing, something she had yet to encounter in the wasteland.

She could feel her resolve give way to a spark of hope between the familiarity at the name and the neon lights, glancing back at the sign as Piper grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

_Maybe we really have a chance to find Shaun after all. He's out here somewhere._

*

Nora didn’t know why she was even surprised at the fact that Nick Valentine, the alleged detective extraordinaire, was missing. Apparently the only person in the god-forsaken wasteland who could help her, and he was no where to be found. Of course nothing would come easy for her, not here in the Commonwealth.

_But when had it ever?_

“Let me come with you. Nicky’s good people." The eager voice snapped Nora out of her thoughts instantly as she turned to address the tenacious young reporter, bouncing on her heels next to her. Despite her delicate features, she could tell Piper was a fighter, and given that she had already told the reporter her whole life story, she agreed. 

“Okay. I’d appreciate the company.” She answered honestly, offering Piper a nervous smile before glancing at the sky that had started thundering. The tick of her PipBoy drew her attention, indicating a surge of radiation in the air. “We used to have something similar back in the day, you know. Minus the green glow of radiation, that is.”

“Well, then you should know now is probably a good time to get inside. Before you start vomiting from radiation sickness, that is.” Piper began walking, a quick but confidant pace, pointing toward the door of Publick Occurrences.

Nora followed, glancing around the plaza carefully, her eyes locking with a rigid looking security guard, his focus directly locked on her, his expression completely obfuscated by a pair of large sunglasses. She looked back to Piper briefly, about to make a comment about the man, but as she turned back to where he had been, she found the space surprisingly empty.

Brushing the thought off, she entered through the door Piper was holding open for her. “Hey Piper, do you know how to sew?”

The woman shot her an excited smile. “Of course. Most of us wastelanders learned to fix up out clothes early on, why? You got some sort of top-secret sewing project?”

“Something like that.” Nora answered with a smile, the gears in her mind spinning. She had already divulged the whole story about what had happened in the vault to Piper, who despite her guarantee to help, would inevitably publish her story at some point. She figured she might as well make a statement, a threat to whoever had taken Shaun that she would not stop until she found them, and most of all, that she had nothing left to lose. “I have a few more statements for the article as well.”

Piper’s face lit up at the comment, her excitement palpable in the small office.

*

It was the same scene that had haunted her the last few nights, Nora had almost begun to grow frustrated and hopeless with the repetition of the nightmares, haunting her psyche indiscriminately. Almost as if sensing her irritation, her malicious brain decided to throw a wrench in the predictability, offering new horrors that night.

She was once again back in the Vault, trapped inside that damn cryopod, her fists beaten bloody against the cold glass and metal in front of her. The same man who she saw almost every time she closed her eyes approached, but this time, her pod flew open and she charged toward him, knocking him to the ground, fists instantly making contact against his face.

Only when she looked down, she realized it wasn’t his face anymore, but the Raider from Corvega, his body now cold and limp beneath her; but she couldn’t stop striking him, her fists connecting with bone that gave way far too easily. Part of her knew she needed to stop, but she couldn’t despite her best efforts, even as she realized the man beneath her had now morphed into her husband, the bullet hole in his head dried with blood. Still, she felt her fists connect against him.

“No, please no” She heard her voice beg, sobbing as she was unable to gain control of her own hands. Her husband suddenly opened his eyes, glazed and empty as he looked up at her, his previous wounds notably gone.

Finally, she found that she was able to stop, gasping as she stood over Nate. But it was not long before she felt two sets of hands grip her shoulder, yanking her up. She looked up to see Preston and Alice holding her, their faces marked with anger. Despite the centuries between the pair, their cooperation in dragging her back was not even a surprise to her.

She was no longer in the Vault, but standing outside it’s opening, the platform fully descended, a good hundred foot drop below her. Her terrified eyes looked up, meeting a sea of angry faces, a mob approaching, pushing her back toward the opening of the Vault.

Kevins. Nate. Preston. Alice. Danse. Marcy. Warson.

The kept walking toward her, voices raised in incoherent yelling for a long time before their voices became one, pushing forward as she felt her foot at the edge of the Vault.

“It should have been you!”

Suddenly she was falling, screaming, faces peering over with sickening smiles as she fell.

*

She woke with a start, gentle hands against her shoulders.

“Alice” she rasped aloud, reaching out to the figure before her, realizing instantly that the woman was much too thin to be Alice, as reality quickly knocked her mind back into focus.

“Sorry...Piper...” Nora offered politely, afraid to meet the woman’s eyes.

“Relax, I’m here to help.” The woman offered a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder then shrugged, moving back into the adjoining room.

At the woman’s disappearance she suddenly felt very alone and exposed, the memory of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark room, a faint light gracing her surroundings in long shadows. She caught sight of a pile of blue at the edge of the bed, which she reached for.

In spite of it’s previous damage, the suit looked as good as new, the bright blue fabric stark against the pale skin of her hands. She looked up as Piper reemerged, a can of water and box of Sugar Bombs in her hand

“I figured you might be hungry.” The reported offered, extending them both toward her. She took them graciously, offering her new friend a grateful glance.

“Thank you, Piper. For this and for fixing the suit...” Nora paused, looking at the suit longingly. “I know it probably seems silly, but... It’s the last piece from before. I know last night I said it was about owning my identity, but honestly, it was the last thing I wore when... When I still had a family.”

She looked up, meeting Piper’s eyes with earnest. “I get it. Heck, maybe I’ll tell you my story some day.”

“That would be nice, Pipes.” She offered, nodding as she moved to check her PipBoy, grabbing it from where it sat on the side table. “Well, it’s almost morning. Ready to find this Detective Valentine?”

“Always ready to get my hands dirty.” Piper answered, moving to the doorway. “But first, I gotta check in with Arturo. Who knows what sort of trouble we’re getting ourselves into.”

She could feel a smirk teasing at her lips, matching Piper’s mischievous one. “Who knows indeed.”

Not ten minutes later, Nora was dressed back in her vault suit, her tension markedly lowered. She felt like she was back in her own skin, the smooth fabric clinging against her, comforting and dependable. She saw Piper waiting for her at the door, an impatient smile on her face.

“I hope you’re planning on getting some armor from Arturo before you leave.” Piper quipped, looking pointedly at the suit. “Though I gotta say, that’s a good color on you. Like you were born to wear it.”

"Thanks." Nora shook her head at the comment, moving toward the open door Piper held for her before entering the market place once more.

The buzz of life began to increase as Piper argued with the man at the weapons booth, people pouring out of the many doors around the city.

She looked curiously toward where a young girl had approached the robot at the counter where she was sitting.

“Excuse me Takahashi,” The girl started, giggling as she continued. “Is your generator running?”

“Nani ni shimasu ka” The robot answered.

“Well...” The girl resorted to a fit of giggles before continuing. “You better go catch it, Takahashi!”

As soon as she had delivered the punchline, the girl had run back toward the alley, cackling gleefully at her joke. Nora could feel herself smile, amused by the sweet exchange. The horrible joke occupied her mind as she briefly thought about some of Nate and Codworth’s horrible jokes. She wondered if Shaun would have tried to share his own cringe-worthy jokes as he got older, just like the young girl had with Takahashi.

Sadness filled her chest and she forced herself to look back toward Piper, who was still interrogating Arturo about how he sourced his weapons to ensure they weren’t pawned goods. Nora rolled her eyes at the exchange.

_Always looking for a story..._

Behind Piper, she suddenly noticed the curled, shaking figure rocking in on itself, knees drawn to his chest. Nora walked up to the man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, sir?” She asked politely as the man suddenly stilled.

“Nuka Cola.” He rasped out, his eyes wild and pained. “So thirsty... Doctor says I can't drink liquor no more... Cola... Need a Nuka-Cola...”

“Okay...” She answered cautiously, scanning over the man in front of her to make sure he wasn’t going to attack her at a moment’s notice. Assuaged by her concern after a few moments. “I’m pretty sure I have one in my bag.”

The man looked up to meet her eyes as she shrugged the pack off of her shoulder, searching through it.

“Really?” He asked eagerly. Nora wondered how malicious the Commonwealth had been to him that a single act of human decency would rouse such surprise.

“Of course.” She reassured, offering the frail, shaking man the glass bottle. He took it eagerly, drinking it as quickly as possible.

“Thank you! It's like I can finally think straight.” He suddenly stated, draining the bottle.

“What did you say your name was?” She asked, still kneeling and watching him intently.

“Sheffield.”

“Sheffield, how would you like a job?” Nora was no stranger to alcoholism, having grown up with her father being, well, himself. She'd even been known to over-indulge herself, especially back in her college days, but she also knew a sense or purpose greatly helped with fending off the urges.

His expression crumpled, regarding the kind woman with a glimmer of hope. “What? You... you mean it?”

“Of course I do, Sheffield. Head up to Oberland Station.” She stopped, carefully thinking. “Do you know where that is?”

“Sort of.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Okay, it’s northwest of the city. After you get there, they can guide you to Sanctuary, where you'll probably meet a man Preston Garvey. He's all gentleman with a fancy coat, you can't miss him. But you need to be careful. There’s a lot of nasty things along the way.” She warned, watching as he frowned at her words.

“Oh... I... I’m not a fighter.” He stated, his hope gone as soon as it came. Nora could feel the man’s heart break as the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

“You have a couple option here, Sheffield.” She started, her tone gentle by firm. “I can give you my old shotgun and some damn good instructions, or I can take you as far as Oberland and someone from there could get you to Sanctuary. What would you prefer?”

“If, uh, if you have a safe route, I can try.” He offered meekly, trailing off.

She nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to take a detour back toward Oberland and the woman Allison, who reminded her far more of her old friend than she was comfortable with. “I can give you the safest route to Oberland and some resources. Do you think you can get there? If not, I should be back in a week and I can take you directly to Sanctuary, but... I believe you can do this.” 

His face lit up at the vote of confidence, nodding eagerly. “I can do this.. Thank you, uh...?”

“General Smith, Commonwealth Minutemen” She offered confidently, offering the old rifle from her back along with a box of ammo, two cans of water and a box of Fancy Lads, which he happily took. “You’re doing me a favor here, Sheffield. I was carrying way too many guns anyway.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” The man started, moving to stand as Nora followed. “General.”

She offered a polite smile before her gaze was suddenly locked with Piper’s.

“That’s Real sweet of you, Blue.” The reporter offered with an approving smile.

“Blue?” Nora asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What can I say? I told you it’s a good color on you.” Piper shrugged, walking pass her. “Ready to go?”

“I’m always ready.” Nora answered confidently, following behind the other woman.

*

Despite the handful of molerats and feral dogs they encountered, the trip had been relatively peaceful. Any apprehension she had about bringing Piper along was assuaged as soon as she saw her take out two molerats in the span of only a few seconds.

Piper had chatted incessantly for the majority of their journey, filling her in on all the Diamond City gossip, despite the fact that she had no point of reference to absorb anything the report had told her. Still, Nora nodded eagerly and reacted in shock or amusement when she guessed it was appropriate. Eventually Piper had asked if her PipBoy got Diamond City radio, apparently tired of carrying the majority of the conversation while Nora had been lost deep in thought.

She had readily tuned into the station, the sounds of ‘Easy Living’ filled the air, distracting the women from the silence as they walked toward the area where Nick had been headed, Park Street Station.

“Hey, Pipes.” She stated suddenly, turning off the radio and watching as the woman approached the murky water-feature in front of them. The woman turned, raising an eyebrow in question. “Why are you helping me? Honestly, not any of your other excuses about wanting adventure.”

“Well,” Piper paused, turning back to the water cautiously, reaching out to pluck a medical kit from the surface just as a guttural groan echoed from below.

The woman was suddenly next to her as Nora reached out to grab her hand, dragging them to the safety of the subway entrance. She noticed suddenly that she had ran them straight into Park Street Station, which, according to Ellie, was rife with gangsters ready to blow their heads straight off their shoulders, but, it was where Nick Valentine would more than likely be. Granted, she reasoned that it seemed a better bet than whatever the fuck was hidden inside the lake Piper had dared venture into.

She pushed into the abandoned station and desperately hoped their rescue mission wouldn't turn into a recovery one.

As soon as she saw the Triggermen, she had stood frozen in shock. They all looked like they had extensive burns from head to toe, missing a majority of their noses, but dressed in pre-War gangster-style clothing.

“Ghouls.” Piper had whispered, taking notice of her shocked expression.

“I thought ghouls were, uh,” She paused, unsure how to articulate her response. “They’re just people though?”

“Yeah.” Piper answered quickly, watching the Triggerman in front of them cautiously. “There’s the feral ghouls, probably like what you’ve seen out in the wasteland so far. As a rule, they’re all wild and aggressive, nothing left upstairs if you know what I mean. But these are just regular ghouls, granted their fashion choices are a bit ostentatious.”

Nora had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, shooting the ghouls a quick glance. “How did they...?”

“People can turn ghoul when exposed to radiation. I’ve heard some of them have been around since before the War.” The reporter answered quickly with a smirk, turning back to face Nora. “These guys some old friends of yours, Blue?”

“Definitely not.” Nora quipped back. “I’d never be caught dead with a bunch of two-bit gangsters.”

“Well, you better be ready, or we will in fact be caught dead with the, uh,” Piper paused, her lips quirking up at the uncommon terminology. “Gangsters”.

Nora gave her a quick nod before turning to address the Triggermen, raising Righteous Authority to indicate she was ready to move out. Piper mirrored her movement with her own pistol before the pair charged out toward the guards.

*

Even though there had been more than a few Triggermen standing guard all throughout Park Street Station and Vault 114, Nora and Piper had made quick work of the lot. The former found herself impressed with her companion's tactical acumen and how the young reporter seemed to be glued to her side as they tore through the abandoned vault.

After the first half dozen rooms, Nora realized she felt quite fond of her new friend, who engaged their assailants without hesitation, not allowing anything to distract her from their goal. Nora even found herself amused when Piper offered a knowingly smirk when she stuffed a few of the Vault 114 suits into her pack before continuing.

In a matter of minutes, they stood outside the thick metal door, the detective's familiar voice sending a jolt of recognition down her spine.

“Detective Valentine indeed.” She muttered to herself, thinking back to what Piper had told her about ghouls.

Piper moved to enter the password she had found in the guard’s pocket into the terminal, shooting Nora a questioning look before she entering through the metal door. Every part of her body was buzzing in panic, afraid to face the man on the other side of the door. Despite herself, Nora found her feet moving forward, following closely behind Piper as they entered the room and hers eyes locked on the figure before her.

Where she had been expecting the man to bear the leathered skin, matching that of his captors, instead she saw exposed wiring and circuitry, the metal exoskeleton visible in the man’s hand.

She backed up suddenly, her steps the only sound in the empty room as she looked at the man before her, her eyes wide. Every part of her screamed that there was no way in hell that it was the Nick Valentine she had once known, but as soon as she saw him move to light the cigarette dangling from his lips, she was certain it was him.

_But how is that possible? He's a fucking robot..._

The movements were precise but languid, a strange combination that struck a familiar sensation in her mind, but she was at a loss as how it could possible be the Detective Valentine she knew from before the war. As she tried to process the situation, her heart pounded against her chest, begging to be free. Nora was half convinced she was going to faint before the gravelly voice brought her two dualistic realities into the same orbit.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario. Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?” The familiar voice rasped out at Nora, jarring her from where she stood.

“I’m here about a missing person...” She stated, surprised she was able to speak, much less maintain an even tone as her emotions focused instead on assaulting her stomach. “Ellie sent me.”

“I should give that gal a raise.” The man answered before moving to the hallway. “Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us, somewhere. The name's, uh, ironic, but don't let that fool you. He's dangerous.” Nora could feel herself actively disassociating, only nodding in response as Nick turned to Piper.

“How the hell did you get yourself into this, Nicky?” The reporter inquired.

“What can I say, Piper? You, me, and hard luck all seem to run together like acid rain down an old sewer.” He answered, walking toward another door with a shrug.

“You’re too right, Valentine.” Piper grumbled, raising her rifle as the proceeded along the Vault’s corridors before encountering the group.

Nora was thankful Nick had managed to talk Darla down and convince Skinny Malone to release them, she knew she didn't have the emotional stamina to do it herself, and she was unsure if, in her current state, she’d be any help in a fight.

Once the trio was out in the alleyways of downtown Boston, she could feel the stern gaze upon her face as Nick turned toward her momentarily, before looking upward.

“Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting...” He offered, as she nodded solemnly, entranced by her own thoughts.

After realizing Nora had no intention to talk, Nick turned toward Piper. “How’s lil’ Nat? She doing well in school?”

Nora jolted back into reality at the conversation, suddenly invested as she learned about Piper’s kid sister. She eventually offered a polite nod to the pair, before readjusting her pack.

“I’ll meet you guys in Diamond City in a few days. I have somewhere I need to stop by first.” She thought fleetingly that it wasn’t a complete lie. Ellie had said something about a town called Goodneighbor, and as the new General of the Minutemen, she had a responsibility to get the word out about that they were back in business.

However she would be lying if she denied that her main prerogative was to get away from Detective Valentine as soon as possible, at least long enough to process her thoughts on the reemergence of the familiar and yet simultaneously unfamiliar face.

She turned, rushing away as she steadily avoided the pair’s response. Quite frankly, she couldn’t handle whatever they were going to say in the moment, her stomach churning it's objections.

*

Nick watched as the woman in the Vault suit turned on her heel, pedaling away from them much quicker than necessary before looking back to Piper.

“What’s the story with the dame?” He asked cautiously, something familiar about the woman tickling the back of his mind. “Think it was this beautiful mug that scared her away?”

Piper shook her head, watching where Nora had retreated, shock at her sudden departure evident on her features. “I don’t. Uh, sorry Nicky. I don’t know what that was about.”

“Hm.” Nick replied, squinting at the reporter.

“She’s a Vault dweller.” The reported offered, focusing her gaze back toward him.

“No kidding, kid, that much was obvious.” The detective answered with a smirk, moving to light another cigarette. “Who are we looking for then?”

“Well...” Piper paused, watching her friend nervously. “It’s not really my place to say.”

Nick raised an eyebrow at the unusually private answer. “You holdin’ out on me Piper? That’s not like you.”

She offered a laugh and a brief nod. “Nick, Nora’s been through hell, but I, uh, I figured she’ll tell you about it when she stops by.”

“Nora?” He asked, tilting his chin out in contemplation, his voice suddenly surprised. “I know that name...”

“How could-” Piper tilted her head in response, narrowing her eyes before smiling “Oh!”

“Piper...” Nick cautioned, watching his young companion falter under his harsh, interrogating focus. “Start talking, kid.”

“It’s not completely impossible that you might have met her before, just, uh...” Piper offered a nervous smile as she tried to explain the matter carefully. “It would have been a really long time ago. Like, really, really-”

“As old Nick?” He interrupted suddenly, quiet for a brief moment before nodding. “How is that possible?”

Piper sighed, pointing in the direction of Diamond City. “C’mon ya old bucket of bolts. I’ll tell you along the way.”


	14. Good Neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He asked me what's your flavor  
> I said I need a favor  
> I'm a little short on caps but  
> I'm a good good neighbor'

The super-mutant roared behind her as she passed the destitute building, a loud beeping coming from the creature as she ran, terror and the innate desire for self preservation pushing her steadily onward.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

If she had just followed Nick and Piper to Diamond City she wouldn’t be in this fucking position, but of course she had to go isolate herself as soon as she felt a single emotion.

Nora knew she was a runner, as a rule, it was what she always did. Occasionally she was a fighter, a defender at times, but more than anything she preferred to avoid emotionally-charge conversation. But, because she had been so eager to avoid the awkward conversation Detective Valentine, she had waltzed herself damn-near directly into a super-mutant hive. Piper’s words echoed in her mind.

‘Big and dumb mutated idiots with a penchant for snacking on people.’

Panic began setting in as Nora was becoming more and more certain running was futile and she turned the corner, spilling out of the alleyway. She almost cried with happiness at the stupid, giant neon sign on the wall across from her.

_Goodneighbor._

She sped toward the entrance, ducking behind a wall as a loud shot rang out behind her, followed suddenly by a loud boom. Glancing toward the top of the wall, she quietly breathed a sigh of gratitude to whatever blessed sharp-shooter had saved her from becoming pink mist mere moments before.

Nora turned back toward the maze of jutting walls in front of her, recognizing with relief that they were just narrow enough to stop any super mutants from squeezing through, not that the invisible sentries on the roof were likely to give them the chance. Following the path, she noticed yet another red door at the end.

“I’m seeing a theme here.” She mumbled to herself, before nearly jumping out of her skin as a voice answered her.

“Red doors are easier for our drifters to spot... no matter how high they are.” Nora looked around curiously, not finding the source of the raspy, male-voice.

“Oh, uh.” She paused uncomfortably, glancing apprehensively at the door. “That makes sense, I guess.”

A few moments passed as she waited for the mysterious voice to answer.

“You have to turn the handle, you know, to open a door...” The voice stated as she rolled her eyes at him. The voice added, in an almost whisper. “Ham, get a load of this fucking idiot... Yeah, at the gates.”

She looked incredulously around her at the statement before trying the handle, which mercifully and as indicated, opened with ease. Entranced by the absolute rudeness of the mysterious voice, she pushed forward, stepping over the threshold to the settlement.

She almost didn't hear the man who had quite stubbornly placed himself directly in her path. She had to fight against every ounce of impulse from just shoving the son of a bitch out of the way as he spoke.

“Hold up there, sweetheart.” The male voice purred, and Nora had half a mind to shoot him on the spot, just for the misogynistic nickname alone. “First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance.”

Despite his artificially-sweet tone, the unspoken statement was obvious. She debated briefly what her safest option out of this would be, before deciding on acting coy. “Oh? Darn... I don’t have any caps. I’m so sorry.”

She could feel a sense of dread eat at her stomach as the man’s smile turned wicked and he walked closer toward her, invading her personal space in a near-intimate way.

_Definitely not the right answer here, genius. Of course it wasn't..._

“Oh don’t worry, you sweet thing. I’m sure I can find other ways to keep you safe... maybe for a different price. If you get my drift.” He purred in her ear. Nora had to repress the urge to flinch away from him, not wanting to show weakness, but she felt like she was about to vomit at the man's implication.

Hardening her jaw she looked back up at the despicable man, quickly putting her hand up to create space between them, as anger overtook her previously innocent facade. “Let me clarify, asshole. _You_ better back off, or you're the one who's going to need insurance.”

The man reeled back slightly at her harden response and she smirked at how easy it was to shake him.

_Good. Throw the bastard off his rhythm._

“What was that? I couldn't hear over the sound of all that... pathetic.” The voice answered her, his previous shock at her resistance now composed into fury at her disrespect. She idly realized her finger was twitching, stroking the trigger guard along the pistol at her thigh.

After the shitty-fucking day she had, she had half a mind to blow the rape-y motherfucker to smithereens, but her rage seemed imperceptible to the man as he continued. “You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or accidents start happenin' to ya. Ya know. Big... bloody... accidents.”

Nora felt her arm tense, almost moving to bring her pistol up, but before she could react she saw a man saunter out of the shadows where he had, apparently, been watching the show.

“"Whoa, whoa. Time out.” The man ordered, the gravel-esque tone in his voice commanding silence, inspiring a suddenly stillness from the other citizens who had been previously meandering about as he walked into the light. She suddenly realized, that the man was a ghoul, but hell, if he was there to shut the rapist asshole up, she was more than happy to pledge her alliance to him. “Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap, Finn."

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us.” The man, Finn, smarted back as the ghoul moved to wrap his arm around the would-be extortionist’s shoulders.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” The ghoul said sarcastically and despite his friendly demeanor, Nora knew instantly that he was a man who should not be triffled with, danger oozing from his very presence “I said let her go.”

Despite the mayor’s order, the man pressed his luck, and she had the sinking sensation that it was not going to end well for him. “You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor.”

Hancock looked momentarily swayed by the comment, but given the rigidity in his stance, Nora knew what was about to happen before he even moved a muscle, the tension palpable as she watched on silently.

“Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something...” Hancock purred, almost flirtatiously, before reaching behind him and bringing the silver glint of a long knife forward, burying it into the man’s stomach multiple times, before dropping the man to the worn cobblestone beneath him. He glanced to her, wiping the metal blade against the flag tied around his waist.

The irony of the movement was not lost on her and she could feel a sarcastic smirk tugging at the edge of her lips.

_Oh, it’s that sort of town._

She thought briefly to what the pre-War Nick Valentine had told her about gangs.

‘Silence is compliance, kid.’

Forcing a polite smile to her face she regarded the alleged ‘mayor’ with feigned gratitude.

The ghoul turned back to the crumbled body before sarcastically stating aloud to the man's corpse. “Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

The ghoul turned toward her, replacing the blade in it’s holster at his waist, eyes scanning her with a much more relaxed demeanor than he previously had. “Now I know you had ole' Finn handled back there, but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes. You all right?”

“I'm fine. Thanks for taking care of him.” She forced, eyes anxiously darting toward the pool of blood forming underneath Finn’s crumbled body.

Despite her conviction that the man was undoubtedly a bastard and likely a predator in more ways than one, her protective instinct kicked in as she warred against the urge to run and help the man.

”Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.” The ghoul offered cool-y, scanning her guarded expression. “That is... So long as you remember who's in charge, ya dig?”

“Yeah, I feel you.” She agreed, offering a polite smiled. “Thank you again, Mayor Hancock.”

Hancock seemed quite pleased at her response, turning back toward the building behind him with a mere nod in her direction. She felt relief fill her body at the man’s apparent approval and departure. The onlookers who had been watching the exchange resumed their activities, no one so much as moving to help their departed resident.

*

After trading in a couple of the machine guns and boxes of ammunition she had snagged off of the Triggerman at Vault 114 and sharing a surprisingly honest conversation with Daisy about Boston before the war, not of course before the charming woman had convinced her to run a few ‘errands’ for her, Nora found herself seated in a grimy room at the Hotel Rexford.

As she undressed, preparing to wash up as best she could given the accommodations and change into one of the clean suits, she ran over her game-plan in her head. But the more she tried to figure out how to get the courage to face Nick again after so many years, much less ask him to help her find Shaun, the more muddled her thoughts became.

There was no bad blood between them, quite the opposite in fact. She remembered how she had rolled her eyes the first time she met Nick, his smart quips about her very pregnant stomach raising a friendly ire between them immediately, much to poor Nate’s annoyance. The thought bred a growing sense of anxiety in her gut, which she was steadfastly trying to ignore. As she pulled her new suit over her now semi-cleaned skin, she thought how she could really use a good glass of wine, or if she was being truthful with herself, maybe more than one.

She thought that surely there had to be a bar around a place like Goodneighbor, and found herself missing her canine companion even more with every passing hour. She faintly recalled seeing a sign over a pair of the blue subway entrance doors.

“Seems like a seedy bar if I’ve ever seen one.” She stated aloud to herself, clipping Righteous Authority to the strap and pulling it to her back. Even though she knew the hotel door had a lock, she seriously doubted it was formidable against even the most inexperienced of burglars, and other than her sack of caps and PipBoy, Righteous was the only truly valuable thing she owned at that point.

Granted, the fact that Danse had gifted it to her may have had more sway over her opinion of it’s value than she was willing to admit. A smile toyed at her lips as she thought of what the serious man would say about a place like Goodneighbor. She could feel her thumb toy with the gold band at her finger and she stood rock-still, thinking about her dear Nate. She wonder how the hell she could still see his death as clear as day, but was more than able to she kept him from her mind most of the time.

_Denial._

She knew it as soon as the question crossed her mind. It wasn’t uncommon, of course. Even though she knew it was a coping mechanism, it was one of the only things helping her through the god-forsaken wasteland half the time, and she refused to ruminate on it longer than the briefest of moments.

Despite the fact that denial and repression had killed her departed friend just as easily as a bullet, or that she knew how it would inevitably explode out of her at some point, likely with catastrophic results, she still welcomed it like an old friend.

The warm embrace of emotional repression was familiar and far be it for her to deny herself whatever comfort it provided in the cold, unforgiving wasteland. Hell, she knew it was why she ran from Nick in the first place. The man probably already realized who she was, if not from his own recollection, certainly from Piper’s retelling of her traumatic emergence from the vault.

She ignored the thought, pushing out of her hotel room as she made her way to the bar. Her footsteps were the only sensation she'd allow herself to feel as she walked toward the entrance to the Third Rail. Within minutes of entering she had settled into a corner couch, a mug of horribly out expired wine in her hands as she watch the woman on stage sway to the music.

‘God, she’s phenomenal.’ She thought to herself, the alcohol making her feel suddenly abuzz.

“I gotta say, I agree with you there, sister.” The voice behind her purred as he moved to take a seat. Her eyes caught a glimpse of red, white and blue as the ghoul moved to sit next to her, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. Apparently her thought had not been strictly kept to herself.

“Mayor Hancock.” She stated, her nerves suddenly on edge. The sudden tension was not lost on the man who chuckled at her side.

“Relax, Vaultie.” He answered, shooting her an eyebrow at her surprise. “You see, I was thinking about that unfortunate meeting earlier. You looked uncomfortable, and not in the way I typically like. At first I thought you had a thing against ghouls. Granted, this face gives me a sexy king of the zombies appeal, but you smooth-skins are typically less than receptive to such charms.”

She shot him a glance, narrowing her eyes as she tried to read his body language, open but still ready to pounce should he need to. Again, the same word that she had previously associated with him popped into her head.

_Dangerous._

The ghoul continued, appearing unfazed under her cold gaze. “Then, I watched how polite you were with Daisy and KLEO at the shops. Certainly not from 81, though I gotta admit I’ve never heard of 114. So I asked around a bit. Were you really an icicle for 200 years or where you giving Daisy the run around?”

“She told you.” Despite the attempt to appear calm and collected, the edge in her voice was apparent, a fact which she noticed made Hancock smile.

“Nah, doll. She kept your secret, but plenty of ears here in Goodneighbor.” He answered, watching as Magnolia flirted with Charlie at the counter.

“How charming.” Nora answered sarcastically, her eyes suddenly drawn to two men pushing through the crowd toward the backroom.

“You were going to shoot Finn, weren’t you?” The voice tore her watchful eyes from the pair, back to the wide black ones scanning her face.

“I... considered it.” She admitted, the alcohol doing more for her honesty than a sense of morality ever could.

Hancock nodded, looking back toward the doorway she had been focused on. “You feel conflicted about it.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement, she realized. “Yes.”

“Don’t be.”

“No?”

The ghoul sighed, shooting her a contemplative glance before answering. “I’ll spare you some of the finer details, but let’s just say our little meeting with Finn was long overdue.”

She nodded, thinking about the proposition Finn had made in exchange for her safety, her eyes shooting toward the confrontation in the room the two man had entered before answering. “Then I defer to your judgment, Mayor.”

As soon as the words crossed her lips, she stood, striding confidently over to the room. She could recognize a shake-down a mile away and by god, if she could do anything in the ruins of her garbage world, she could fucking help people.

*

She watched the exchange quietly, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed in a sign of solidarity for the young man being threatened, Hancock stood next to her as he lit a cigarette calmly. Unless things got outright violent, she decided there was no harm in standing back for the time being. At the very least it would give her ample opportunity to gather as much information as possible before acting.

Nora noticed how the two men, who she deduced were probably some version of better dressed Raiders, given their polished metal armor, had turned to where she and Hancock were standing behind them, scanning the room. She recognized the look for what it was. They were determining if they could risk the conflict.

The men shot her a glare, then turned to leave after offering a few thinly-veiled threats toward their intended victim.

At their departure she walked toward the irate-looking younger gentleman, seated rigidly in the worn red armchair. “Your friends need to learn some fucking manners.”

MacCready shot her a guarded look. “Look, pal. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk.”

She raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond Hancock pipped up from the doorway. “I’m pretty sure this gal is the only reason you’re still breathing, Mac. Had she not showed up when she had, I’d be willing to bet your old Gunner buddies would be painting the walls with ya right about now.”

The man scoffed, moving to take a sip of brown liquid from the glass next to him.

“MacCready, right?” She asked, crossing her arms as she tried to read his expression.

“What’s it to ya?” He smarted back.

“Well, kid,” Nora answered emphasizing the ‘kid’ and smirking in amusement at his indignation at the nickname. “I heard you were in need of some work, right?”

“Maybe. But I won’t have less than 250 caps for two weeks at your back.” MacCready shot back, his posture suddenly alert and discerning at the offer of work.

“I only got 150 caps at the moment.” She replied, watching his expression. “I can get you more later, though.”

“No deal.” He rolled his eyes before turning to pour more liquor into his glass, bourbon she noted, based on the shape of the bottle.

“Come on Mac.” Hancock reasoned, moving closer to the exchange. “Y’ain’t had work in weeks and from what those assholes indicated, you probably won’t be getting many new customers, save the occasional job from Daisy.”

MacCready shot the man a look of irritation before deflating as he took another sip. “Fine, but I won’t start until noon tomorrow.”

Nora watched him a beat longer than necessarily, before nodding. “Hotel Rexford. Noon-ish.”

As she exited the room and returned to her still vacant spot on the couch, she looked up to Hancock as he settled next to her once more.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the smooth sounds of Magnolia’s songs filling the now crowded bar.

“Why’d you do that?” He finally asked.

She hadn’t expected the question and she tilted her chin before responding. “I have my reasons.”

“Clearly.”

“He needs work.” She offered, pausing as she considered elaborating. “He needs _to_ work, I think.”

Hancock offered a small smirk before moving to stand, catching her secondary meaning. “I don’t disagree, sister. Thank you.”

“What?” She demanded harsher than she’d intended, but the ghoul just turned, disappearing up the set of stairs. Her stubborn nature kept her from following the man to demand additional information regarding the young mercenary, and instead focused her attention back on the beautiful singer. Nora closed her eyes, listening to the silky voice until her worries melted away.

She was vaguely aware that she had imbibed more than she should have, and nearly didn’t notice when the mercenary’s arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her with ease.

“C’mon.” The voice offered finally, guiding her out of the bar as she became aware of the sound of heavy steps on stairs, barely cognizant of her own feet trekking upward. Straining to look at the figure helping her, she realized it was the mercenary, MacCready. She wanted to make a smart comment about how he wasn’t on duty yet, but her brain couldn’t form the words.

She tried to focus her eyes on the environment, a spike of panic growing in her stomach as her brain tried to catch up to her surroundings, when she suddenly felt a softness underneath her, MacCready’s hands releasing her to what she could only reason was a bed.

“You’re lucky I was there, boss.” MacCready stated, moving toward the door. Nora recognized that he had brought her back to the hotel room.

“W’ya’mean?” She mumbled, trying to move to a seated position.

“Goodneighbor is not the sort of place you want to pass out drunk in public, that’s all I’m saying.” He offered quietly. When she didn’t answer after a few moments, he continued. “Let’s just say there were some fu-freakin’ guys talking about takin’ advantage before I stepped in. Said they wanted to have a lil fun with you.”

“What?” She suddenly felt painfully sober and beyond terrified, despite the near-dangerous level of alcohol she knew was probably coursing through her bloodstream at the moment.

_Stupid, get drunk in a strange town. What would Nate say? Idiot._

“Don’t worry. They didn’t - They wont. Get some rest, boss.” The voice stated, confidant and final. She could hear his steps echo and growing fainter, accompanied by the gentle click of a door latch as she laid back on the bed, drifting to sleep before she could ruminate on the severity of the situation.

*

Despite the grenade she was pretty sure had gone off inside her head, Nora pulled herself out of bed much earlier than necessary, determined to get the hell out of town as soon as possible. As much as she was dreading the meeting with Nick, she knew he was likely her only hope to find Shaun.

“Is it true?” She paused when she heard the gravelly voice on the other side of her door.

“S’What true?” Even through the door, she knew the voices immediately.

“I’ve heard that you practically dragged the Vaultsicle up the stairs and into bed. The rumors are getting quite salacious here, Mac.” Hancock joked, a harshness undercutting his playful tone.

The mercenary let out a gruff laugh. “You should check your sources, Hancock. I’m sure they also told you I left the room about two minutes after I dropped her drunk ass into her bed.”

“I heard. Besides, I know you’re not that type.” The ghoul confirmed. Nora moved closer to the door, never one to refuse free information, especially on someone she’d be expecting to have her back in a fire fight. “I also heard the real story from Charlie this morning. Who was it?”

“You know exactly which two motherfu- idiots it was.” She could feel herself smirk at MacCready’s aversion to cursing, a direct contrast with his abrasive personality.

“They’re lucky it was you who caught wind of it and not me.” Hancock answered, any hint of amusement replaced by a sudden calmness that she knew, much like the weather, preceded a particularly violent storm. “Unless...?”

“Nah, they’re all yours. Figured you’d want to handle it anyways. Mayoral business or whatever.”

“You’d be right about that. Gettin’ real sick of every fucking asshole running through here, tainting the name of Goodneighbor. Sure, we’re no Diamond City, thank fuck for that, but I won’t stand for that shit on my watch.” At the attestation, Nora wondered if she misjudged the town. She decided that she had, at the very least, misjudged their Mayor. “Hey, you take care of her out there, alright brother?”

“That’s what she’d paying me for. Why? You got your eye on her or something?”

“Heh. We’ll I wouldn’t refuse if she offered,” Hancock quipped as Nora rolled her eyes at the response. She didn’t know why she was surprised that 200 years had come and gone, but men were still just the same. “But it’s not like that, man. Gal damn near shot Finn before I could step in.”

“That wouldn’t have ended well.” MacCready retorted flatly.

“Definitely not. She’s got gumption though. And that, my friend, is a rare quality, especially in a Vault dweller.” The men were quiet for a few moments longer, and Nora wondered what they were thinking about her, now that her life was so easily dissected and passed around town by the gossip mill already. “Anyways brother, gotta jet. Fahr has some pressing matter or some mayoral political shit I gotta go over.”

After a few minutes, she could hear some faint shuffling outside the door, before moving to open it.

“Oh!” She gasped, suddenly surprised to see the back of a capped head seated in a chair blocking the door. MacCready jumped up, swinging around to look back at her before relaxing. “Mac... Did you sleep outside my door all night?”

“Seemed... less weird than sleeping inside the room.” He answered with a shrug.

“Yeah, like, a little.” She blurted out with a small laugh before composing herself. “But in all honesty... Thank you, for last night and for keeping watch over me.”

The man grunted, moving to pick up his bag from the floor, swinging it over his back with his rifle. “Can’t get my caps if you’re dead, boss.”

“My hero.” She stated sarcastically, wincing at the lights above her. “What helps a raging hangover in the apocalypse?”

“Mentats and a Nuka Quantum usually does the trick for me.” The mercenary answered, moving toward the stairs. “Where to?”

With a groan she followed, movement making the roaring headache exponentially worse. “Daisy’s I guess. Then Diamond City.”

“Wonderful.” He answered dryly, the disdain for their intended destination apparent as he clenched his hand around the strap across his chest before making toward the hotel’s entrance.

*

The trip to Diamond City had been abnormally quiet while she walked off her hangover, which surprisingly had been almost completely mitigated after an hour, cured by the Mentats and cola combination like MacCready had suggested, even if it left her brain feeling a bit fuzzy.

Whereas Piper had at least attempt to make small talk, the young mercenary was noticeably silent, even if he did occasionally bob his head at some of the songs when she'd eventually decided to turn on Diamond City Radio. The guards let them in without argument, even if they were glaring at MacCready with rampant distrust.

It wasn’t until they entered the city that one particularly irritated guard dared to voice his disdain. “Chumming around with a merc, huh? I don't want no trouble on my beat.”

Before the guard could finish his sentence, Nora spun around toward him, cocking her head. “That’s funny. I didn’t think I asked your opinion.”

“Boss.” The voice behind her warned as she took a step closer toward the guard.

“In fact, I don’t think the company I chose to keep is anyone’s business, especially not yours. You're lazy and negligent by all accounts, considering what I know about your policy on missing persons.” She snapped, glaring at the man, who faltered under her gaze.

“Listen, my bad.” He acquiesced, a fact which had not escaped MacCready who stared at the pair in shock. “I heard you rescued Valentine. Good work. Nick’s good people, er, well... you know what I mean.

Seconds later, Nora was smiling politely at the guard. “Glad we got that sorted then. Mac?”

“Boss.” He answered quickly, the surprised look on his face quickly dispelled.

“Let’s find Valentine.” She stated, turning on her heel to march deeper into the city, the mercenary right behind her.

“Blue!” The voice echoed across the former-field as a pair of arms suddenly came around her shoulders. She almost laughed at MacCready’s guarded expression at the woman who had charged toward them. “I was so worried when you left!”

“Piper.” Nora offered, gently reciprocating the hug before pulling away. “No, I just needed a minute to think. Then I ran into some mutants and got bogged down in Goodneighbor.”

Piper wrinkled her nose at the mention of the town, but was wise enough not to voice her opinion in front of MacCready. “Did you take care of that business you were talking about? Was it something with the Minutemen or-”

“No.” She answered quickly, shooting MacCready and a glance, unsure of the man’s opinions or previous experience with the civilian militia, given the infamous massacre in Quincy. But if he had anything to say on the matter, he didn’t voice it.

“Okay, well I still want to go over a few things about the article. I can let you proof read it before I publish it!” The reporter continued excitedly.

“Pipes, I’m sure it’s great.” Nora reassured, shifting her weight between her sore feet. “I can stop by after I see Nick, but you don’t need my approval to print it.”

“Oh! Of course. I’ll let you go see Nicky, but I’ve been telling Nat all about you and your story.” Piper rushed, hands gesticulating wildly as her excitement grew. “She is so excited to meet you!”

“I’ll be by later, promise.” She answered and Piper smiled before turning and heading away with a small wave.

“See ya!”

Nora turned back to MacCready with a nod to follow her as they ambled down the crowded alleyways toward the bright pink sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the door isn't red, but for the symbolism, it is.


	15. One More Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'One more tomorrow  
> To see heaven in your eyes  
> To have your hand cling to mine  
> And wander through paradise'

“Nora.” Nick stated, looking up from the folder he was holding as she entered the office.

“Nick Valentine.” She answered, her throat tight and nervous. “Feels like just yesterday.”

“For you, maybe.” He answered with a small grin. “Some of us had to take the long way to the end of the world.”

“I’d say you’re looking well, but I’m not usually a liar.” She smarted, the familiar banter only slightly easing the empty feeling in her stomach.

“Oh? Don’t like my new digs?” He joked, raising an eyebrow.

“You looked better in uniform, but this is certainly... a look.”

“Yeah, you got a point kid.” Nora rolled her eyes at the old nickname as Nick frowned. “I’m sure you got questions. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t accused me of being an imposter yet.”

“The thought crossed my mind.” She admitted, regarding the toe of her boot shamefully as she shifted her stance.

“I don’t blame ya. Hell, if Piper hadn’t told me about...” The detective paused, moving to grab the pack of cigarettes from the desk, lighting one with ease. “Well, you know. I didn’t recognize ya at first.”

“Well I no longer look like, what was it you said? Oh yeah, like I was smuggling a vertibird under my dress.”

Nick laughed, his gaze temporarily drawn to the stoic mercenary behind her before looking back toward his old friend. “It wasn’t my finest joke.”

“It was fucking terrible, Nick.” She stated with a laugh, before realization hit her. “Shaun...”

“I know, doll. Take a seat.” He stated, moving to help her to the chair.

“I’m not pregnant anymore Nick, you don’t need to be so chivalrous.” Despite the sharpness in her tone, Nick hadn’t reacted in the slightest. MacCready raise an eyebrow at the exchange, but his expression remained primarily unchanged as he moved to sit down at the couch on the other side of the room.

“Old habits, I guess.” He stepped back, adding. “Very old habits.”

“How?” Nora asked suddenly, eyes fixated on the metal exoskeleton of Nick’s hand.

Nick nodded before moving to sit against the desk next to her. “Old Nick, the one you and Nate knew, volunteered for some sort of experimental brain surgery shortly before the bombs dropped, some scientific mumbo-jumbo about mapping consciousness. Long story short, the experiment didn’t go as planned, and he died during the procedure. I’m a synth, well, a discarded prototype, anyway. As best I can tell, the Institute found out about the experiment and somehow transferred Nick’s consciousness into me through brain scans.”

“I don’t understand?” She asked, scanning his face carefully.

“I remember everything about old-Nick's life, and I remember going under for the procedure, and then when I woke up... I was laying in a pile of ruble, over a dozen decades come and gone in the blink of an eye. I found some old documents from the CIT experiment Nick underwent. Their goal was to transmit consciousnesses from one body to another. I suppose it works because all of old-Nick’s memories and feelings are just as vivid as the one’s I’ve experienced here in Diamond City. But I know it's not the same."

She nodded, lost in thought as she processed the man’s story, thinking back to her first memory of her old friend.

It had been purely chance that she had even met Nick in the first place. Boston Police Department was working on a joint case with a few other agencies, including the Chicago Police Department and the FBI.

Nate had been consulted on as a defense attorney, his goal to offer potential arguments to combat the possible defenses the infamous gangster Eddie Winter could posit when the state decided to bring charges against him.

Despite her husband’s usual reverence of the theory ‘innocent until proven guilty’, he had told her that he knew instantly that Winter was a bastard and he hated him as soon as he had been brought on as an adviser. She remembered how shocked she had been at the sudden change in Nate’s usually relaxed demeanor.

It wasn’t until one morning in early December, when she had burst into her husband’s firm, irritated at his significant tardiness to their would-be coffee date, that she had met Detective Valentine. After she had brushed passed Nate’s secretary and through his door, knowing the older woman wouldn’t dare stop her, given the sight of her very pregnant stomach, she pushed open the office door she saw her husband engrossed in an argument with a sharp-dressed detective sitting across his desk.

“Valentine, I told you- Nora?” In an instant, the ire in his voice melted away into affectionate softness. “What are you doing here honey?”

“You’re late.” She accused, stomping across the floor, completely ignoring the detective.

“Ah, fuck. Honey...” Nate offered politely, trying to reach for her hand which she pulled away from his grasp. “I’m sorry, I lost track of time. Let me make it up to you?”

“Hell Nate, you’d think she had a fully-armed vertibird under that dress with how quickly you caved.” The man joked, moving to light a cigarette and shooting Nora a smirk. “He was just reading my the riot act a few seconds ago about due process.

“That sounds about right. Nate’s a sucker for all that legal red-tape.” She joked, her fierce gaze matching the detective’s own. “But I guarantee, the forces of Genghis Kahn pale compared to my wrath at being stood up for a date.”

“Hey Valentine. Have some respect.” Nate snapped, pointing toward the lit cigarette in the detective’s hand. “My very pregnant wife is standing right next to you. Take that shit outside.”

Nora’s mouth fell open at the harshness in her husband’s tone and she wondered if he was usually this direct with everyone else. Granted, watching Nate be so protective of her and their baby was certainly enthralling in its own regard, inspiring a sensation that she would definitely have to explore a bit more when they got home that night.

“Ah, my apologies. I’m not frequently in the company of pregnant ladies” Nick stood, moving toward the door with a wave. “Catch you later, kid.”

At the time she hadn’t expected Nick to become a family friend. Over the moths, he and Nate had spent numerous late-nights pouring over the Winter’s case at their home in Sanctuary, up until Jenny’s death, after which Nick had disappeared entirely. At least now she knew why.

“You’re as much the Nick Valentine I knew as the man you call ‘Old Nick’ was.” She stated finally, meeting his now-yellow eyes. The relief on Nick’s face was blatant, his faux-confidant demeanor melting away.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that.” He admitted, watching her cautiously, as if he thought her affirmation was some sort of cruel joke.

“Did you really think I’d be anything but on your side?” She asked, placing her hand over his unexposed one. “After everything?”

“I... I wasn’t sure. There’s a lot of misconceptions about synths.” He stated. Had she not known him better, he almost would have seemed nonchalant instead of forlorn.

“Fuck ‘em.” Nora answered confidant, an almost defiant hint to the statement. “They’re going to have to get through me to get to you.”

“There’s that fire I remember from ya.” Nick answered with a wide smile that quickly disappeared before he nodded. “Now, I hate to break up the reminiscing, but I believe we have a kid to find?”

*

After pouring her heart out to Nick about her recollection of the murder and kidnapping at the Vault, shedding more than a few tears in the process, the detective had reassured her that he had a possible lead on the bald mercenary in question.

Even though Ellie had said the child with the man, Kellogg, had been ten, but the revelation gave her hope nonetheless. For all she knew Shaun could be long dead, but something about the situation told her they were on the right track with that Kellogg character, even if he might be associated with the illustrious Institution.

Now, their biggest obstacle was just the matter of trying to get into the man's place without being caught and jailed by security. As ironic as the idea was, two former cops being effectively arrested for burglary, it wasn't an experience she'd want to entertain. Especially given her earlier display at the gates, she highly doubted that the Diamond City security forces would offer her any sort of leniency.

“Kicking it down would draw too much attention to us. C’mon doll, you know this.” Nick insisted, stopping her from barging forward. “How about you go ask around at the Mayor’s office to see if you can get the spare key?”

“Why would the Mayor have the spare key for a resident’s house?” She asked, turning to look at Nick suspiciously.

“Hey, I’m on your side here.” He answered, moving from the lock he had been trying to pick. “But McDonogue aint exactly what we’d call morally upstanding.”

“Fucking politicians.” Nora muttered, squinting to look at the platform in the distance.

Nick let out a small, sarcastic chuckle. “You’re telling me. If you can’t get McDonogue to hand over the key, try his secretary. She’s not above taking a bribe. I’ll stay here and try if I can’t get this open.”

“Delightful.” She answered flatly, turning to walk back toward MacCready who was trying to stay a respectable distance back from the pair. “You any good at pickpocketing?”

The mercenary let out a small laugh. “Something like that.”

She nodded and began toward the marketplace, MacCready following close behind.

Unsurprisingly, Mayor McDonogue refused to lend them the spare key, outright denying it’s existence despite her attempts to appeal to his emotional sensabilites. Though, as Nick had predicted, Geneva was much more compliant, after a couple hundred caps were tossed her way, that was. Nora tried to ignored the look MacCready shot her when she dolled out the generous bribe to the woman.

“Thought you only had 150, boss.” He finally stated, once they had gotten back into the lift.

She smirked, watching his composed expression. “I thought you wouldn’t go less than 250, Mac.”

He shrugged, looking back toward the market place as the lift got closer to ground level.

Nora felt guilty at her previous deception, noticing the contemplative look in the man’s eyes. “I had to make sure you weren’t going to shoot me in the back at the first chance. Figured my odds were better splitting the payment with part now and part later.”

MacCready turned to her, nodding slightly at the explanation before smirking. “You’re smarter than I initially gave you credit for.”

“You saying you thought I was dumb?” She quipped back.

“I thought you were naive.” He admitted, moving to step off the lift platform. “The Vault suit doesn’t help.”

“Hmm.” She answered, walking ahead of him without further response.

*

She paced the small house, scanning the surroundings once more. Despite it’s exterior, the house had been much smaller than she had expected, and there definitely didn’t appear to be any sign of Kellogg or the child he’d allegedly had with him.

Frustrated at the lack of clues or indication they had even been there recently, she kicked the corner of the desk.

“Fuck.” She hissed, leaning forward in pain, reaching for her foot.

“That wasn’t the smartest thing you’d ever done.” Nick stated, shoot MacCready an exasperated look as he stifled a laugh from the doorway.

“Shut up.” Nora snapped, looking up from her leaning position before moving to kneel under the desk, focused on her new discovery. Affixed to the side of the desk was a large red button with a thick wire leading to a floor board. “Giant red button, huh?”

Nick had moved behind her, squatting to see what she was inspecting. “Should we see what it does?”

“The last time I hit a giant red button, I launched a rocket from ArcJet. Think Diamond City has a rocket under it?” She answered sarcastically, a smile filling her face.

“That was you?” MacCready asked, approaching the pair at the desk cautiously. “Maybe you shouldn’t-”

“What?!” Nick interrupted, looking between MacCready and Nora’s expression.

“Long story.” Nora shrugged, looking back at the mercenary before quickly pressing the button without either party's input. All three jumped up, weapons in hand when the wall moved away, revealing the smaller room behind it.

Nick was the first to move forward, his hand gripped along his pistol as peaked around the wall before relaxing. “Look at this. All of a merc's favorite things...”

MacCready followed, nodding at the comment. “Can’t say I disagree.”

A brief search of the room yield a few provisions, but Nora didn’t find anything concrete that could point them to where Kellogg might have gone. Fortunately, Nick was better adjusted to the nuisances of the Commonwealth and he picked up the cigarette box, inspecting it.

“San Francisco Sunlights. Interesting brand. Won't lead us anywhere on its own, though.” Nick stated, answering the question before Nora could ask. “Sunlights aren’t particularly popular on this coast, not since the bombs dropped, at least.”

She nodded, feeling dejected at the lack of conclusive evidence. After everything she had gone through to find Nick and get him back to Diamond City, she felt like she was just back where she had started.

“Shame you don’t have a trained pup.” MacCready stated, moving to grab a bottle of bourbon from the side table, unscrewing the cap and taking a small sip. “The Gunners used to train some of their dogs to track people down for miles. Hell, some of them can track a scent from here to the Capitol Wasteland.”

“The Capitol? Like DC?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at the statement. “Who are the Gunners?”

“The Capitol Wasteland is what you and I used to know as DC. One of the first places hit by the bomb.” Nick answered, collecting a few packs of the cigars off of the table, stuffing them into the pocket of his trenchcoat. “The Gunner's are high-end mercenaries. No job too brutal. Think Raiders with better uniforms and more violence.”

Nora shot MacCready a look, remembering the pair who had confronted him back at the Third Rail who had told him to stop operating in Gunner territory. She tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. The mercenary shifted under her gaze, but did not answer.

She turned back to Nick, still watching the younger man from the corner of her gaze. “I have a dog that might be available for a track, if we get a good starting point.”

“Nora... You know how hard it is to train a dog to track.” The detective answered, trying to soften the implication of his statement.

She squared her shoulders, a slight purse to her lips. “Dogmeat’s good... I got pinned down in a firefight near Cambridge and he not only tracked down a friend of mine up by the old Corvega factory, but led him to the front stoop of where I ended up hours later at the old police station.”

“It’s worth a try, but we’ll have to get a better lead on Kellogg first.” Nick answered, moving toward the front door, opening it as he shot a look back toward the pair still standing inside the house. “The day’s come and gone, so how about we meet back at the agency around nine in the morning? Give me a bit of time tonight to put a few feelers out and regroup?”

“Sounds good, Nick. See ya then.” As soon as the door closed, she turned to face MacCready. “Anything you want to tell me, Mac?”

“Not really, boss.” He answered, eyeing the provisions and bottles, looking anywhere but at her.

“Okay.” She replied, moving to take some of the provisions and ammunition, stuffing it into her pack while MacCready did the same.

It wasn’t long before the shelves were cleared of any valuables, along with the rest of the small home.

“Dugout Inn has beds and booze.” MacCready stated once they were finished, moving to open the door, holding it for her to walk through.

“Pretty sure you snagged enough booze, but I wouldn’t mind a bed. Preferably one that is in better shape than the one at Rexford.”

MacCready let out a small chuckle, leading the way toward the run down bar with confidence. Once inside, he nodded at a burly man sulking by a hallway.

Nora noted the familiarity that appeared to pass between the men before reaching for her stash of caps. “How much?”

“Ten caps for one bed, fifteen for two bed.” The man answered, his voice bearing a distinct Slavic accent. It was the first pronounced accent she’d encountered since waking up in the wasteland and it completely threw her off guard.

“Two beds is fine, Yefim.” MacCready answered politely, nudging Nora who had continued to stare at the man in shock. 

“Oh.” She answered with a start, handing fifteen caps to the man who nodded quietly in response while he counted the caps carefully.

“Room 12” Yefim answered, watching MacCready carefully.

“Top floor. You remembered.” The mercenary said with a nod, moving up the stairs where Nora followed quietly, thinking about the exchange.

“Top floor?” She asked once reaching the door.

MacCready nodded, moving to sit on the bed closest to the door he'd opened, shrugging his pack of his back. “Best vantage point for shooting. Harder for people to get to if they’re gunning for ya.”

“Smart.” She answered, still trying to figure out what she could about the secretive young man. “Hope you’re planning on sharing some of that bourbon you snagged.”

He shot her a careful look, and she smirked. Apparently they both didn’t quite trust each other yet. She moved to the opposite bed, throwing the pack down and pulling out the last of the clean Vault-suits, along with the three dirty ones.

“Scarlett can wash those for you, for a few caps.” MacCready answered, pulling two ceramic mugs from his bag, along with one of the brown bottles.

“Thanks. Hell, I’d sell my PipBoy for a decent shower.” She joked, relaxing as he poured the bourbon into the cups, pushing one toward her on the bedside table, almost as if a peace offering.

“A hot bath will probably cost ya closer to 20 caps.” He answered, sipping from his own glass.

She nodded, reaching for the other mug. “Might be worth it. Hey, how did I get stuck with the cost of the room?”

The bourbon burned on it’s way down, in a less than pleasant way, but she took another sip regardless.

He smiled slightly from where the cup was up to his lips. “I figured you already shorted me 100 caps, so it’s more than fair.”

“You sneaky bastard.” She said with a laugh, shaking her head as he shrugged in response.

“Could say that same for you, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved, finishing the small amount of liquid he had poured for her. “You good to keep watch in here for a few? I won’t take long.”

He nodded, moving to take off his boots and lean back against the wall.

Not more than twenty minutes later, she was cleaner than she’d been since leaving the Vault, the murky water in the bathtub a clear indication that the small basin baths she’d been taking along the way had not been doing nearly enough.

By the time she had made it back up to the room, MacCready was napping on the bed. She quietly moved to her own bed, pulling her half-dried hair back as she reached for the brown bottle on the side table that was noticeably lighter than before.

*

The noise from her PipBoy jostled MacCready awake as she toggled with the frequencies.

“Sorry.” She offered softly, turning the device back to sleep. “I thought it was on silent.”

“S’Okay.” He replied, removing his hat and placing it on the side table. “I was just taking a minute.”

“Resting your eyes?” Her amused tone drew her companion’s own smirk.

“Something like that.” After running his hand through his hair, he frowned, looking at his fingers.

“If you want to clean up or wash your clothes, Scarlett said she could have them ready by morning.” Nora stated, half hoping he'd take her up on the offer.

MacCready nodded, moving to grab the small leather pouch from his pocket.

“Take it easy on that stuff, boss.” He mumbled, pointing toward the bottle before exiting the room.

Once she was sure she was alone, she pulled out the holotape Codsworth had given her when she first got home.

She hadn’t listened to it since the first night, but in the quiet of the hotel room, she felt relatively safe. She entered it into the PipBoy and pressed play, allowing the sounds of her past to dance around the room.

The first play through she stared straight ahead at the wall, willing herself to picture Nate’s face and Shaun’s chubby cheeks as they had recorded the tape. The second time she pressed play, she could feel the hot tears rolling down her face, but made no other sounds. She closed her eyes, allowing the tears to flow freely, hitting play repeatedly until she was certain that MacCready would be returning soon. Carefully, she removed the holotape, placing it back into the zippered pocket on her bag, and quickly wiped at her cheeks and eyes before taking another sip of the bitter liquor.

After a few minutes she heard the door open and the heavy thud of boots across the floor, MacCready flopping onto the bed opposite her.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He stated, an unfamiliar strain in his voice. She looked up, blinking her swollen eye to gauge his expression.

“Don’t worry about it.” The ceramic mug felt heavy in her hands, but she couldn’t convince herself to put it down, instead bringing it toward her mouth once more. The warmth it left in her stomach was comforting after the emotionally draining day she’d endured. “Besides. Like you said, I already swindled you out of a decent amount of caps.”

“I’m sorry about your son, Nora.” MacCready stated suddenly as she jerked her head up. It was strange hearing him say her name, but she saw his own desolate sadness and just nodded, not able to formulate an answer. Her companion continued. "I know it’s hard being away from him.”

Nora watched as her companion's tone changed and it an instant he looked just like a terrified teenager, no longer the fearless mercenary she had met the previous night. “You...?”

"Yeah..." MacCready suddenly composed his expression shrugging. “It’s for the best. He’s safer where he’s at.”

“What do you mean?” She pressed, wanting to know more about the her new associate.

“It just is. And I don’t want to hear any judgment -” MacCready snapped at her, clenching his fist at his side.

“Hey, hey, Mac.” She reassured, moving to sit next to him on the bed and gently place her hand on his forearm. “I believe you. I heard how those guys were threatening you at the Rail and what you said about the Gunners. So if you say it’s safer for him where he is, I believe you.”

MacCready nodded, looking at his own mug on the side table as she pulled her hand back. “Those two assh... those two idiots you saw me talking to at the Third Rail, Winlock and Barnes. They’re with the Gunners, one of biggest gangs in the Commonwealth. Got a rep for being crazy... you know, so tightly wound, you'd think they were a cult or something. Stuck with them for a while cause the money was good, but I never fit in. That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo.”

“Sounds like a good thing you got out when you did.” Nora offered sympathetically.

“I thought so, at the time. But they've been hounding me for months and it's been driving off clients. No one wants to touch me once they learn I used to run with the Gunners. And I figured if I could get enough caps together, maybe I could buy them out.” He shrugged, moving to refill his mug much more liberally this time. “That way I wouldn’t have to worry about them coming after me.”

“They don’t seem the type to give in that easily. If you try to pay them off I’m damn certain they’d come back for more eventually. Had a few gangs like that back before the war... It’s always ends bloody.”

“Exactly. They always have a small army of Gunners with them at all time... I don’t stand a chance against them.” MacCready murmured, fingers tracing the cracked exterior of the mug.

“Well, fortunately for you, you’re talking to the new General of the Minutemen.” She stated proudly. “Granted, it’s only a few of us at the moment, but we’re rebuilding and I’m confidant we’ll have more people joining our ranks.”

He shot her a look of amusement at her statement. “How the fu- heck did you swing that?”

Nora let out a small laugh with a shrug. “The position was vacant and I foolishly agreed to the nomination.”

“I appreciate that, but I don’t think a group of settlers with pipe-pistols are gonna be able to outdo the Gunners. They’d be massacred.” His voice was sad, and Nora frowned, determined to help him regardless.

“You’re right, it’d be a suicide mission for them. But, with the right tools, you and me could probably take them.” She offered. MacCready looked up at her, surprised at the genuine tone in her proposition.

“Are you... Are you sure? What about your kid?” He asked, the thought of leaving another child without his mother made him uneasy.

“Valentine said he's tracking down leads. Until then, I can help you out. I have an old set of Power Armor and a Minigun up near where we’re headed. That enough firepower to take out their little group?” MacCready laughed, a full happy laugh at the declaration.

“That, uh, yeah, that would probably do the trick... Thank you. I know you don’t know me from Atom, but...”

“Oh shut up, Mac. Pretty sure saving me from those assholes in Goodneighbor makes us even.” She waved the concern away, moving back toward her bed. “That being said, I think it’s about time I got some rest. You too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled but complied, but only after pushing a chair in front of the door handle to the room to block any unwanted visitors.

*

It was nearly morning by the time Nora woke up, jostled awake by yet another familiar nightmare. As she laid in bed, curled in on herself she went over the game plan in her head.

_Stop by a few of the locations for Haylen, clear out the old library for Daisy, drop off the tech at the station, and then head up toward Sanctuary._

A faint grunting from MacCready’s bed drew her attention and she moved carefully to approach where he laid pressed against the wall on the side of to the mattress. It was apparent that he was having a night terror, his face streaked with sweat and fear.

Nora moved to get a piece of cloth from her bag, wetting it quickly with a bottle of water, and returning to sit on the side of the mattress. She gently wiped his forehead, whispering to him.

“Mac, you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in Diamond City. You’re okay.”

MacCready relaxed, his eyes opening a few minutes later, still glazed with sleep and confusion. Nora continued wiping sweat from his face for a few moments longer before moving to stand.

“Go back to bed, we don’t have to be up for a few hours yet.” She offered, but the mercenary was already moving to sit, wiping his face absentmindedly with his hand, before blinking his surroundings into clarity.

“Why... Why did you do that?” He asked, his tone harsh and accusatory as she suddenly felt sheepish for the actions.

“Mac... That’s what mothers do. I know it’s not the same, but... The instinct is still there, I guess. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” She moved to put the PipBoy back on her arm from where it was resting by her pillow.

“I wouldn’t know.” He stated quietly, moving to stand, stretching before moving to repack his bag.

Nora didn’t answer, but she did watch him a moment longer, another piece of the MacCready puzzle fitting itself easily into with what she already knew about him. She wondered fleetingly if there was anyone the horrors of the wasteland didn't haunt at night.

She could feel her thoughts going back to Danse, the tortured look he carried when he talked about his lost team and how eager he was to help her. In that instant she knew he had to have nightmares as well, but wondered how severe they were.

Given her own survivors guilt, she imagined the man's internal torture was quite deep. The thought inspired an unexpected sadness in her chest as she moved to reclaim her own items, placing them carefully back into the bag.

“Takahashi’s is the best breakfast at this hour, if you’re interested.” MacCready stated and Nora nodded, scanning the room once more for any forgotten items before turning to follow her companion out the door. As soon as they exited, they saw the pile of clean clothes outside, and moved to replace them into the bag.

“I gotta tell you, the times in my life when I ate noodles for breakfast I was not doing well for myself.” She muttered, following him around the market place, her eyes bleary. MacCready shot her a look she was too tired to try and interpret.

“Hey. How about I introduce you to my confidential informant? Takahashi, thank you for meeting me here.” The friendly female voice drew her attention to the noodle bar.

She immediately recognized that it was Piper, accompanied by what she could only describe as a miniature version of the enthusiastic reporter.

“Fuck.” Nora whispered under her breath as the other woman caught sight of her approaching.

“Blue! How could you? The jig is up. Takahashi told me everything. Web of lies, gone. I mean, I bet your name's not even Blue, is it?” The woman joked, pulling her into a hug before nodding to the girl next to her. “Looks like Nat and I had that same idea as you two.”

“Everyone knows Takahashi’s is the only place to get a decent breakfast around here.” MacCready responded, moving to a bar stool, the three women following suit. “Haven't been to Diamond City in years, but I'll tell you... nothing's changed.”

Nora repressed a smirk tugging at her lips at the comment. “Well after 210 years, I gotta say, it looks a little different.”

Piper smiled at her comment, pulling out her notebook. “Is that an official statement, General Smith?”

“Piper...” Nora groaned, shooting the woman a withering glance.

“I’m kidding, Blue!” She answered, raising her hands in feigned innocence.

“Mhmm.” Nora answered, watching Natalie swing her legs back and forth on the stool. “She looks just like you. Sure she’s not yours?”

Piper rolled her eyes before turning toward Takahashi to order, a faint blush on her cheeks.

The group ate their noodles, MacCready silently listening to the exchange between Piper and Nora with curiousity.

Piper filled them in on the date she had gone on with Danny Sullivan, questioning Nora about her time in Goodneighbor and the search for Shaun. Nora answered with vague details, but was eager to regale Nat with a slightly embellished story about how she faced off against a Deathclaw and saved the Minutemen from Raiders.

By the time nine in the morning had rolled around, the group split their separate ways.

Piper and Nat waved them away, excited to start selling their new issue, featuring Nora’s own testimony, while MacCready led the way to the detective agency.

*

Despite the brief search for leads the previous night, Nick hadn’t been able to locate any definitive information on Kellogg. Nora and MacCready had bid him farewell, promising to return in a week with Dogmeat, assuming he would be able to collect some better information by then.

The trip to Boston Library had taken a day in itself, Raiders and ghouls halting their anticipated progress. Fortunately, they were able to hole up in an old Slocum Joe’s, taking four hour shifts to sleep and eat before dawn came and they would continue their trek to the library.

The Boston Library alone had taken several hours to clear. With only the two of them, they had to work primarily on the basis of stealth to pick off the mutants, which became truly dangerous when the Protectron’s decided to wake up and join the fight. Despite the barriers, by the time the sun was beginning to set, they had holed up in a secure room at the Library, eating cold Cram and potato crisps along with the vodka they’d found in the back of the librarian’s desk.

“I figured we could hit Barnes and Winlock, then still get back to Nick by the end of the week. What do you think?” Nora stated, glaring down at her serving of the potted meat.

“Are you sure? I know you said you’d help out, but...” He fiddled with the cap of the vodka bottle. “It’s a lot to ask.”

“Shut up. They sound like assholes, I’ve heard about some of the shit they do, and I’m more than happy to help.” She insisted, thinking of the Raider's back at Corvega.

He nodded, forcing himself to look at anything other than his new companion before continuing. “They ran me out of the Capitol, after I left. I can’t... I can’t go back until they’re gone.”

“And that’s where your kid is?” She asked, despite already being confidant she knew the answer.

“Yeah, Duncan.” He paused, he hadn’t told anyone other than Daisy his son’s name, but something about her convinced him he could trust her. “He’s staying with a family friend. Heh. The friend, he’s actually a former Vaultie like you, but he’s good people.”

Nora nodded, contemplative as she considered his words. “Good. Then there’s no question, we hit the Mass Pike Interchange then head back to Nick in Diamond City. I actually think I saw another set of armor by one of the settlements.”

“Oh hell no.” MacCready stated suddenly, not realizing his previous slip until a few seconds later. “Heck no.”

She shot an eyebrow in his direction. “Listen kid, if I have to squeeze myself into Power Armor after being frozen in a tiny metal pod for over two hundred years, you can manage for a couple days.”

“Only for this. I’m leaving it on the side of the road after we take care of those bas-jerks.” MacCready agreed, ignoring the amused look on his friend’s face before settling into the bedroll next to him. “You better make sure nothing stabs me in my sleep.”

“Scout’s honor.” Nora quipped back and despite the antiquated reference, MacCready knew with certainty that she had his back.

*

It had taken another day and a half until they reached Cambridge, both emotionally and physically exhausted as they collapsed on the stairs at the police station.

Fortunately, neither one was willing to talk about the incident at Kendall Hospital upon seeing the maternity ward the previous night. Nora had thought she was going to faint when she discovered the tiny skeleton situated in the crib, running from the room before throwing up in a corner. MacCready had known better than to comment, his own tears beginning their escape at the tragic scene.

As soon as they collapsed in front of the police station, Nora began to laugh, the sound echoing around the courtyard, MacCready following shortly after.

“I can’t believe you convinced that mutie that you were his mother.” MacCready gasped, moving to pull the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

“Hey!” She snapped, grabbing the pack from his hands. “You needed a distraction, and no offense, but I’m pretty sure I can outrun you.”

“Only because you keep making me carry this fu-freaking junk in my bag.” He reached for the cigarette pack, yanking it from her hands before removing one. “Seriously? What do you need all the cans for.”

“I've told you, at least three times already. I need to fix a few things in my armor, the cans are free materials.” She asked, leaning back on her arms to look at the sky. "You have any thing good left?"

MacCready grunted, placing a full bottle of whiskey between them, which she took eagerly.

“Y’Know. I never looked at the stars before the war, not for long at least.” She stated, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“I didn’t see a lot of them growing up.” He answered, reaching for the bottle in her hands. “I was the Mayor of a town in the Capitol wasteland.”

“You’re kidding. You’re basically a kid.” She demanded, watching as he uncapped the bottle.

“I was a kid then, too.” He stated. “It was a town of kids and only kids.”

Nora turned to stare at him, suddenly very interested in his childhood. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“Mmm. Nope. It was called Little Lamplight. A whole place for kids who’s parents didn’t want them or couldn’t keep them. Whatever.” MacCready waved the comment away, like it was nothing serious and not horribly sad. “Didn’t matter as long as you were under sixteen, you could live there.

“Jesus, Mac. I’m... I’m sorry.” Nora leaned forward, wrapping her arm around the younger man, rubbing his shoulder in a warm, maternal manner. “It sounds like you did well for yourself though. Becoming mayor? That’s quite an achievement. You should be proud.”

MacCready smiled, nodding at the compliment before mumbling “No one’s ever been proud of me before.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze when the sound of a door opening behind them drew her attention, the familiar figure coming into view.

“Paladin Danse.” She offered with a small smile, turning toward MacCready as she moved to stand, extending a hand to her friend whose hand was still gripping the bottle.

“Initiate Hartt.” Danse answered, a slight tone of surprise marking the words as his eyes darted between herself and MacCready before offering a curt not. “Glad to see you’re well.”

“Damn Danse, all these formalities after everything we’ve been though? I’m hurt.” She joked, shooting him a full smile. “Now, are you going to let me and my friend in or are we supposed to sleep outside?”

“I, uh, Nora. Yes, come in.” Danse rushed awkwardly, shooting MacCready a curious glance before holding the door open for them.

MacCready grinned smugly at the statement, partly due to the warmth of the alcohol in his empty stomach and in part because his new friend had just cut a Brotherhood Paladin down to a normal person with nothing more than a friendly smile. Nora led the way, her hand guiding MacCready's shoulders toward the door as they entered the station.

“Where’s Haylen?” Nora asked, peaking in the rooms surrounding the lobby.

“Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys went on a recon mission to Cambridge Polymer Labs.” Danse answered, eyeing MacCready as he inspected the terminal in the corner.

“Oh? Is that happening?” She asked, shrugging off her pack into one of the rooms. MacCready was immediately aware of her comfort at the station, of which he was not a particular fan.

When Danse offered a small chuckle, MacCready almost passed out from shock at the sound. “They do seem to be getting along even better than before.”

“Ooo, that’s saying something.” Nora answered, moving to push herself into a leaning position against the counter next to Danse. “What does the Brotherhood call it when two of their charges make a baby brotherhood soldier?”

“Squires.” Danse answered, amusement evident in his voice. MacCready watched from the desk by the terminal, taking in the conversation like it was premium entertainment. The sound of Nora’s laugh echoing around the station enveloped them both, each sporting a content smile at the sound.

“You’re serious?” She asked, grabbing Danse’s forearm in the process. MacCreasy noticed that she held her hand there longer than one typically might before pulling away, at least in the wasteland, as well as the rush of blood to the paladin’s face, painting his cheeks a faint pink.

“It... It's not uncommon. Squires are children born to Brotherhood soldiers who reside in designated quarters or with their parents.” He retorted.

“Like military brats living on base.” She stated with a quick nod.

“I- I suppose so.” Danse answered, watching her expression. “Did Haylen? Uh, your compensation?”

“Oh my God! Yes. Righteous is gorgeous. I almost couldn’t accept-” Nora gushed her tone slightly nervous despite her relaxed posture. MacCready watched the exchange with eager eyes, absolutely flummoxed at the familiarity between the two.

“Is it... not adequate?” Danse asked, a nervous feeling growing in his stomach.

“It’s amazing, Danse. It’s just quite a bit more compensation than I was anticipating for one mission. ” She reassured, once again bringing her hand to offer a gentle squeeze to the other man’s arm.

“You saved my life.” He answered matter-of-factly, looking over to MacCready who was clearly still listening. Nora nodded, moving to stand once more.

“Thank you. I love it, the calibration is amazing." Danse visibly relaxed at the compliment, a faint smile peaking out from his usually stoic expression. "Well, I hate to say it, but this is only a short visit. I was gonna drop some tech off for Haylen before heading out.” She stated, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Did you get the radio working?”

“Not yet. Scribe Haylen is in need of a specialized circuit-board to fix a damaged component of the transmitter.” He retorted, watching as she moved toward the doorway of the adjoining room.

“I have a military-grade circuit board - _Please_ don’t ask how I got it.” she retorted, walking over to pull out the device along with the other pieces of tech from her bag. “Would this work?”

“That... That is more than adequate." Danse stated, regarding her with an expression of wonder. “Thank you. It seems you have a tendency to stop by at the most opportune of times.”

She offered a small smile before Danse composed himself, his face suddenly stoic and reserved. “The Brotherhood of Steel owes you significant gratitude for your contributions to our continued success.”

“I’m always happy to help you, Danse.” She answered, heading toward a room leading from the lobby as the paladin approached the front doors. The emphasis on 'you' was not lost on Danse who nodded quickly before leaving the room. Nor was it lost on MacCready, who followed her into the room she had claimed, remaining quiet until he was sure the paladin was out of ear-shot.

“The Brotherhood of Steel, huh? Or is this really about that pretty-boy soldier back there?” He asked calmly, moving to the couch opposite the bed in the room.

"What?" She asked harshly, suddenly looking up to meet his eyes, as if she forgot he had been with her, before hardening her expression. “If the Institute is really involved with Shaun's disappearance, the Brotherhood, with their advanced weaponry, is my best bet at finding him.”

“Okay, boss.” MacCready answered, the coldness of her tone stunting any potential teasing or questions as he settled into his bedroll. “You got first watch?”

“Yeah.” She stated, any sense of emotion devoid in her tone as she moved toward the doorway. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

For once MacCready missed the ‘kid’ nickname she was prone to using as she left the room, and he turned to his side falling asleep almost instantly.

*

Nora found Danse standing in the courtyard, his rifle at the ready, scanning the horizon. She was irritated at MacCready's earlier implication, but couldn't keep herself from seeking out the man.

“Paladin Danse.” She stated, moving toward the figure, who shot her a brief look before scanning the barricade once more. “How come you don’t have a helmet?”

He paused, his stance rigid as he turned to face her. “It got damaged a while back, and due to the lack of crystal components in our scavenging missions, I'm unable to restore it properly.”

She nodded, moving to sit, bringing the now half-empty bottle of whiskey to her lips before extending her arm to the paladin. “I was never a big fan of Power Armor.”

“No?” He answered, turning toward her, shooting a cautious glance toward the barrier before exiting his armor. He moved to take a seat next to her on the steps. “It’s tactically advantageous in battle, there's nothing comparable I've seen thus far in my travels.”

Danse reached for the bottle, taking a healthy swig before passing it back. Nora nodded, her eyes fixed on something imperceptible in the distance. “I told you about the cryopod... It was so cold and metallic. It’s just... Claustrophobic. I tried to use Power Armor before...”

“Back when you helped the Minutemen in Concord, correct?” He interjected with a small smirk.

“Yeah. I was perfectly fine during the battle, but halfway to our destination... I just flipped out. The sudden coldness of the metal, the confined space, I thought I was back in the Vault. It felt so, I don’t know. Too much like it was before... ” She shrugged, surprised at the ease in which she confessed her insecurities to the paladin. She tried to focus on counting the stones of the courtyard, her anxiety urging her to reach forward and retie her boot.

Danse nodded silently, looking at the bottle before taking another quick sip. “I’m glad you’re well, despite your lack of suitable armor.”

“Mac has been doing a good job of covering my ass.” She stated, scooting herself closer to grab the bottle from his hands. “You were really worried?”

“All soldiers in my charge are under my protection, therefore it is my responsibility to be concerned for your safety during the course of your missions.” Nora could feel herself roll her eyes at the response, before Danse continued. “I will admit, I had additional concern for your safety... Given that you did not train under me, of course.”

“Of course.” She repeated dryly, watching the stars twinkle against the dark blue of the night sky.

“Mac?” Danse asked, toying with the bottle cap between his fingers.

“He’s a good kid. Needs a bit of direction, but I trust him.” She offered, picking up the whiskey from the step where Danse had left it.

“Are you quite certain of his dependability?” The voice was cold, almost harsh, in it’s inquiry. Despite herself, she could feel her protective nature began to flare in her chest, turning her entire body to face the paladin.

“Considering I was so drunk I didn’t know what two plus two was just a few nights ago and Mac saved me from being raped by two scumbags in a sketchy bar? Not only getting back to my room safely but going so far as to sleep outside my door to make sure I was safe? Yeah, I think I can trust him.” She snapped, anger rolling off her in waves as she moved to stand. Danse reeled back, watching her change in demeanor as she stepped away from him and Nora kicked herself for blurting everything out.

_Great job, now Danse know about that. There's no way the Brotherhood wants an irresponsible drunk soldier in their ranks._

Danse could feel himself blink, processing the words that she had just offered. A sudden heat of anger began to bloom in his chest encroaching up toward his neck. “I’m sorry, what did you say Initiate?” The words were grated out, over clenched teeth.

Nora glanced back at him, half eager for an argument, if only as an outlet for the building anger she'd been battling at the harsh reality of her new world. “I said, Mac saved me from being raped and probably murdered at no expense to himself, so I trust him implicitly.” The words were harsh and cold, a rare show of the rage she normally was so good at keeping under wraps.

“Who-Who tried to take advantage of you?” Danse demanded, anger radiating from his very stance as he moved to stand as well. “The Brotherhood protects... The Brotherhood takes a threat against it's soldiers very seriously.”

“I... I don’t know.” She admitted, deflating slightly at the confession, shaking her head at her sudden tempestuous moods. “But, they were taken care of. It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay!” Danse snapped, grabbing her shoulders and meeting her eyes. “It’s... It’s not okay.”

Nora could feel herself softening, pulling Danse into an awkward hug as the man stilled, before releasing him quickly. Even though she knew physical contact wasn't common in the wasteland, it still surprised her how adverse people were to it. “It’s okay, Danse. I was stupid and made a mistake. Mac saved my ass, and now I know not to drink in Goodneighbor-”

“Goodneighbor?” He demanded as she moved to sit back on the stoop once more, taking a full swig before closing her eyes and leaning back on her hands, rested against the cool concrete.

“Danse. It’s fine. The people responsible... The mayor took care of them. They're no longer roaming the city, okay?” She knew her explanation was manipulative in it’s nature, skimming over the fact that she was pretty sure that the creeps were probably dead in a pile of ruble by now. However, Danse seemed to relaxed at her explanation, moving to sit next to her.

“I know... It’s not not your fault that this happened, but... “ Danse paused, nervously reaching for her hand that laid resting on the step. “I believe you said this was an expression of friendship before the war?”

She nodded, as slight heat encroaching upon her cheeks. “It... It can be.”

“Please remain vigilant in these situations, in the future...” Danse offered softly, as Nora instinctively wrapped her fingers between his. She had expected Danse to recoil, brush off the contact as inappropriate or unprofessional, but he gently squeezed her hand before relaxing his arm in response. In the back of her mind, her thoughts were screaming at her, demanding an explanation for the sudden display of affection toward him. Whether it was the whiskey dulling her thoughts or her innate need for comfort, she ignored the guilty feeling pooling in her chest.

“I will, Danse. I promise.” She offered, meeting his eyes. Danse watched her gentle expression, hands still interlocked as he offered her a relaxed smile. She caught herself staring at their interlocked fingers, all feelings of guilt or Nate pushed away, the whiskey doing a fair job of keeping reality at bay.

They stayed with their hands interlocked for a good long while, their eyes transfixed on the glimmering stars above, passing the bottle back and forth with their opposite hands, neither one willing to break contact. At the sound of steps outside the barrier, the pair jumped up, Danse moving toward his armor, releasing her hand as she moved to bring her pistol forward at the intrusion.

“Knight Rhys.” Danse offered, relief evident as the two passed under the barricade, their armor stained with fresh blood and their faces exhausted. Haylen had her arm wrapped around the knight's waist, shouldering the majority of his weight as they made their way silent up the stairs.

Haylen nodded in their direction before proceeding through the doors, half dragging Rhys in the process.

“I should check on Mac.” Nora blurted, rushing to follow the pair into the station as she refused to meet Danse's inquisitive glance.

“Understood, Initiate.” Danse replied, any hint of vulnerability gone with the reemergence of their squad mates as he turned back toward the barricade. Despite his desire to address the contact, he watched from corner of his gaze as Nora moved inside, her own muddled thoughts trying to organize themselves desperately at the strangely-intimate moment they had shared.


	16. Easy Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'People say you rule me with one wave of your hand  
> Baby, it's grand  
> They just don't understand  
> Living for you is easy living'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the plot of FO3(but it came out 12 years ago soooo hopefully this isn't an issue?)

The thoughts of the night consumed Danse’s mind well into the early morning as he poured over his pending reports, preventing any sort of meaningful progress on them. He was not ignorant to the fact that the interaction with his new initiate was not strictly professional, but he was not able to discern what it was exactly that had passed between them earlier.

It was no secret that physical contact was much more common not only before the war, which Nora was clearly accustomed to, but with the majority of the Commonwealth citizens as well. The Brotherhood, however, tended to take a more conservative stance on such behavior. However, he noted that Haylen also had a tendency to offer brief physical contact as a means of comfort, particularly when treating injured team mates.

Regardless, the exchange left Danse feeling uneasy and more confused than he’d ever been in his life. The myriad of emotions he felt that night at Nora's recount of the incident in Goodneighbor, mixed with the influence of the warm liquor had clearly lowered his professional guard, but instead of feeling guilty about the potential breach of conduct, he felt a nervous excitement at the exchange.

It was frankly, embarrassing, he thought, that he could be so undone by the slightest of friendly contact. He reasoned that it had clearly been too long since he’d had a friend who he could drop his guard around, but this woman was a conundrum, and his instant ease around her was abnormal for him. Trust wasn’t something that could be dispensed at a moment’s notice, and yet Nora had a sort of charm that stripped away his defenses so seamlessly.

Despite the nagging feeling in the back of his head that he ought to recommend Elder Maxson reassign her to a different mentor, given the unconventional circumstances of their meeting, the thought of having Nora’s safety entrusted to someone else made him uneasy. Danse rationalized that it was given the nature of their meeting in itself that he felt responsible for well-being from that point forward.

Not only had she risked her life to save the remaining members of Recon Squad Gladius, she had divulged her own story to him, admittedly not without a certain amount of pressure on his part. The recollection inspired a sense of shame at how he has cornered her and demanded answers, however she had confided in him, ultimately. That was not something he would willingly betray.

He shot an irritated look toward the stack of reports that he had made zero progress on in the last couple hours before standing, deciding that it was futile to attempt completing them at this hour, considering his thoughts were preoccupied with other matters. A night of rest seemed the most beneficial step at this point, and he ambled toward his mattress, flopping down with little grace.

Fortunately, he still had enough of the alcohol from earlier in the night coursing through his system, so when he closed his eyes, it wasn’t more than a few minutes until he was drifting to sleep.

*

Nora’s eyes shot open at the soft beeping from her PipBoy, her arm jutting out to silence it before anyone else could be awoken by the noise. After muting the offending device, she blinked in the darkened room, eyes adjusting after a few minutes as she began to make out faint shapes around the room. MacCready was still fast asleep, figured curled under the sleeping bag in the corner.

She moved to stand, tip-toeing toward the mercenary. With a strong shake of his shoulder, MacCready jolted awake, Nora’s hand placed firmly over his mouth to prevent the holler that she assumed was not far off.

“Shh.” She ordered as he stilled, recognition relaxing his features. “C’mon kid, we got places to be.”

“What time is it?” He whispered, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he rose.

“It’s 4:45.”

“You’ve got to be fu-freaking kidding me, boss.” He groaned, moving to collect the few belongings he’d laid out on the table the night before, stuffing them into his pack.

“I’m paying you, aren’t I?” Nora hissed back, shouldering the pack and stuffing the small black book under her arm as she reached for Righteous, propped against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah.” MacCready answered, his own bag replaced over his back as he moved toward the doorway.

They quietly made their way to the front doors, slipping out into the early morning air undetected.

“Is there a reason we had to snuck out of there in the middle of the night like ya robbed the place... “ MacCready asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket before shooting her a hopeful glance. “Unless...?

She rolled her eyes at the comment, checking her PipBoy once more. “No Mac, I didn’t rob the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, lighting a cigarette before extending the pack in her direction. She shook her head in response before he continued. “That’s a shame. If anyone deserved it...”

“What?” The words were sharp, her tone unintentionally accusatory. The mercenary shot her a glance, wide eyes meeting her narrowed ones as they continued walking.

“Listen, boss. I’m not trying to start nothing here,” MacCready sighed before continuing, wary about speaking out against the group given her apparent association with them. “The Brotherhood of Steel has a less than desirable reputation. They’re willing to help only so long as you’re useful and take serious issue with any one they don’t consider human enough. Hell, they’re more than happy to sacrifice humans working with them too.”

“What...” Nora paused, slowly exhaling the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “What do you mean?”

“I told you about that Vault dweller looking after Duncan?” She nodded, watching the worried expression pull at the mercenary’s face. “Well his dad was working with them on some big project, something about bringing purified water to the people of the Capitol Wasteland. I don’t really know, I didn’t ask too many details at the time.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” She muttered.

“You’d think. Anyways, when he was like, nineteen, his dad left the Vault to go start working the project again and, like with most people who try to work with those clowns, he ended up dead. Those bas- bigots sent the kid out to a Vault full of super mutants, all alone mind ya, to get some sort of tech." MacCready shook his head, taking a drag of his cigarette before continuing. "A lone teenager who grew up in a vault. Hell, I was only a kid myself at the time, but I could’ve taken the guy out, no problem. Kid had no combat experience, I’m telling ya.”

Nora frowned at the statement, shaking her head. “That doesn’t seem right... Danse, he said they have a whole army of people.”

MacCready let out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah they have plenty of soldiers, with actual Power Armor to keep them safe. The guy was still wearing the tattered old Vault suit, couldn’t have been out for more than a couple weeks by the looks of him. That’s not all though. Eventually he gets the tech and makes it back to them, not without a few obstacles mind ya, but then when it comes time to start the thing up, they tell him the room is flooded with radiation that’ll kill him and that he has to be the one to go in there to turn it on.”

"Are you fucking kidding me?” She snapped, glaring back at the skyline of Cambridge behind them.

“Nope.” He answered, anger undercutting his tone. “He told them essentially to fu- bug off, and did his own thing. Did a lot of good, saving kids from slavery and stuff. The Brotherhood eventually figured out how to get the thing up and working on their own time.”

“He sounds like a good kid... I just can’t believe they would...” The thought trailed off, thoughts spinning out of control as she wondered if Danse was just using her for some other purpose.

“That’s the short version, but yeah, he was. He is. He’s your age now, or well, kinda.” Nora nodded silently, a frown teasing at her lips.

“I... I thought they would be my best bet.” She replied. Even though her gaze was turned toward the horizon, MacCready could tell she wasn’t truly present in the moment.

He inhaled sharply. “You’re probably right, they have all sorts of tech, but be careful. Nothing comes before the Brotherhood for those guys.”

Nora thought back to Haylen’s words the previous week, mirroring a similar sentiment regarding Rhys.

Where she had thought she was truly an ally, she pondered if she was just an asset to them. Here she was, another naive Vault dweller only a couple weeks above ground, and she was running around doing missions for them because of a vague implication about how they could help her find Shaun.

“Let’s just get to Sanctuary.” She stated. The words were calculated and disconnected, as she tried desperately to compartmentalized her feelings about the revelation and began trekking north.

*

By the time the Red Rocket came into view, it was pushing passed midnight, exhaustion wearing through them both.

If it hadn’t been for Sturges’ message about Sunshine Tidings needing urgent help with a feral ghoul horde, they could have made it to Sanctuary by early afternoon, with only their brief, planned stop at Jalbert Brother’s Disposal.

Granted, Nora was relieved the she had received the message while MacCready was with her. Had she tried to clear the location without him, there was no doubt in her mind that her fate would’ve been identical to that of the settlers who had called for help. As bad as she felt for not being able to save them, it was quite apparent they had been long gone before she had even got the message. When morning came, she thought that she’d have to have a word with Preston about why he couldn’t handle the settlement, given that it was only a couple hours away from Sanctuary.

She pushed open the door to the fueling station, briefly pausing to allow MacCready to catch the door with his own hand. The trip had been silent, save for the soothing sounds of Diamond City Radio, neither one of them willing to break the uncomfortable silence that had begun to expound since Cambridge.

When she opened the back office, she almost cried with relief as she saw the small bed and sleeping bag inside. Apparently Sturges had taken care of a few more things on her list about sprucing up the station. Nora threw her pack into a corner and sunk onto the sleeping bag with a sigh, her eyebrow raised as she met MacCready’s gaze.

“What?” She asked, too irritated to argue with whatever the man was going to ask.

He paused before moving to sit on the small bed next to her bedroll, and frowned, shaking his head before speaking. “S’Nothing...”

“Jesus fuck Mac, I’m not in the mood. If you have something to say, just say it.” Her tone was insistent as she watch his controlled expression. She figured that if they were going to hash it out over their earlier conversation, they might as well do it with Preston just up the hill for backup. “Are we good or not?”

“I don't know. I haven't killed you yet. That good enough?” He attempted the joke, but upon realizing the statement fell short, he sighed. “Sorry. Bad joke, I guess, for a merc.”

Nora narrowed her eyes, scanning to determine if he was truly joking before letting out a small laugh. “Probably not your best, at least I hope. Someone might think you’re serious.”

“I didn’t, uh, know how to bring this up, and given... earlier,” MacCready paused to see if she was following him. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing all this shi- uh, stuff, for everyone.”

“You can curse all you want, you. I'm not your mother and it definitely doesn’t offend me.”

“Well, you’re old enough-” The statement was cut short by a very well aimed tin can at his upper arm. “Ow! That’s my shooting arm.”

“You’re a sniper, they’re both your shooting arm, dumbass.” She retorted with a small smile.

“Yeah well, you knew what I meant.” He grumbled, rubbing to afflicted area despite the fact that the attack had done more to wound his ego for not blocking the projectile than anything. She nodded quietly, before focusing back on his face.

“It’s... It’s the only thing that doesn’t feel shitty. If I can help these people, who clearly need it, everything doesn’t feel so hopeless. What’s the alternative? Sit around with my thoughts?” At the statement, her fingers found their way to the chain around her neck and she shook her head. “Besides, it’s the only thing that feels normal.”

“What do you mean?” As much as she was uncertain about divulging further on the matter, that time she had at least anticipated the topic. Even though she had spoken to Daisy and Piper about some of her life pre-war, Danse was the only one she had told about that particular topic, well and Preston. Granted, she thought, trusting the former might have not been her wisest idea, but people would figure it out.

_Hell, Nick fucking Valentine is still running around Boston, it's not exactly top-secret information._

“Before the war, I, uh, I worked for a police department.” She offered quietly, fiddling with the lace on her boot as she started to remove it. "Taking calls and dealing with everyone else's problems on the daily."

He nodded, trying to picture it. “Is that how you knew Nick?”

“No... My husband, Nate, was consulting on a big case.” She looked up quickly before resuming her task with the other boot. “Nate was a lawyer, I don’t know if they have those anymore. Lawyers typically would try to make sure the people who were arrested were treated fairly, and unfortunately it was a pretty common occurrence that they weren't... But they were working together to bring down this asshole. Nate wasn't his lawyer, of course, but he could give the case a different perspective. I had left the department by then, or else the team might have called me in, but I wasn't exactly on speaking terms with my old squad.”

The mercenary hummed curiously in response, but didn’t interject as she continued. “Let’s just say I took issue with how some of the brass handled a few situations. Well, maybe more than a few, and I wasn’t too keen on keeping my mouth shut and pretending I didn’t see what was really going down. They didn't particularly like when officers would start calling them on their shit... I joined because I wanted to help people, and because it made me feel good to help people. It was just so much different than I'd expected...”

MacCready offered a polite nod, understanding about corrupt leadership all too clearly. “I'm sure it's not the same, but I’d kill to see you smart off to the Brotherhood about some of their policies.”

“Oh give it time.” She answered bitterly. “I’m sure I’ll piss them off sooner or later.”

“Might have to stick around for that, boss.” He quipped, eager to lighten the conversation. She could feel herself take a breath at the joke, relaxing the tension she hadn't noticed had been building in her shoulders.

“Only if you give me a discount. I don’t entertain for free.” Nora joked, the banter a familiar welcome. It was a relief to be able to talk about some of the department's corruption, even if he didn't quite get the full scope of the matter.

He shrugged, moving to lay back on the bed. “I’m pretty sure you still owe me.”

Before she could smart back, her eyes snapped to the door at the sound of a something moving outside, when she heard the sound of scratching and whining outside.

“I hope you like dogs, kid.” She grumbled, moving to open the door as Dogmeat rushed inside, jumping up to her and promptly covering her with licks as she settled back onto the sleeping bag. When Dogmeat turned to jump on the bed with MacCready, she watched nervously, relieved when the animal settled down next to her new friend.

“Yeah, yeah, buddy.” He muttered, scratching his scruff affectionately. “Guess you can stay with me tonight.”

Dogmeat looked toward her at his statement and she winked at him before the dog settled back down next to MacCready.

"I get it, kinda." MacCready offered, absentmindedly petting Dogmeat. "You gotta have something to keep you going, for the in between, when it feels like you can't."

"Yeah. Exactly..." She agreed, flopping to face toward him. "Get some rest. We earned it."

The mercenary grunted in response but didn't answer. After a few minutes of readjusting, he finally settled in, his even breaths the only sound in the empty fueling station.

As exhausted as she was, Nora couldn’t get comfortable on the bed roll, tossing and turning in fitful sleep for hours until the sun arose, streaking randomized patterns into the room. She wondered if she would have gotten any better sleep up at Sanctuary, but doubted it. As bad as her nightmares had been, they seemed much worse sleeping in the ghost of her former life.

She quietly stood, shooting Dogmeat a discerning glance from where he was watching her, still curled on the bed, but at the foot of the mattress. He gently shifted, moving to walk toward her. Despite the movement, MacCready didn’t react, his chest gently rising as he slumbered on.

Nora paced around the station, not wanting to get too far in case someone tried to sneak in on MacCready, watching as Dogmeat ran after some small creature across the road. She quietly collected a few tatos from the box on the counter, along with a rather large Mirelurk egg, and a chunk of half-cured Molerat. As she began scanning the area, she made a mental note to thank Sturges for outfitting the place for her. Though, she was certain that Preston had to have had a hand in it as well.

The PipBoy on the counter next to her played quietly while she prepped the breakfast, a process which was agonizingly slow, given that she only had one pan and a hot plate to work with. It was miles away from the gleaning kitchen they’d had back in Sanctuary.

“Whatcha making?” The voice came from behind her, inspiring a very undignified scream as she spun toward the source, knife still clenched in hand. MacCready looked amused, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing at her.

“Fucking asshole, you are.” She muttered before turning to pour the contents of the pan onto the plates next to her. “It’s uh, an omelet, some fried tatoes, and grilled molerat. Eat it, or don’t, I don’t care.”

“This whole time you could cook and we’ve been eating stale Sugar Bombs and Cram.” He muttered, moving toward the plate next to hers.

She let out a wry laugh. “I wouldn’t call this shit cooking. It’s no Michelin Star entree.”

“What?” He asked as she waved the question away, turning to eat. “But, uh, thanks. Can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me.”

“Well, I figured I ought to. Someone ought to feed you, you can’t live on Cram and booze alone.” She shrugged, watching as Dogmeat came running back inside to beg for food. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the blue dog bowl with his portion from beneath the counter.

“That dog is eating better than I did my whole childhood.” MacCready stated, his own serving nearly gone. Nora spun her head, meeting his eyes with a profound worry marking her expression.

“Damn, kid. Well, I’ll be sure to feed you a little better. As long as you stick around, that is.”

He nodded quietly in response, reaching down to scratch Dogmeat occasionally as she cleaned up. It was then that he realized how maternal she was being toward him, an unfamiliar warmth creeping into his chest. He’d never known maternal affection, his own mother having left him, fleeing at the first sign of Raiders when he was only five, so the sensation was strange, but it was a pleasant one, at least.

MacCready figured he should try to help, given that Nora was busy cleaning up, and returned back to the office to pack up their bags.

A few minutes later and they were off, set toward the rickety wooden bridge that was only barely held together by a few strong boards doing the brunt of the work.

As soon as Nora crossed the bridge, numerous settlers waved at her politely, a fact which was disconcerting for them both. She looked down at her blue suit and realized, they recognized her because of whatever description had been circulating about the new Minutemen General had, apparently, included her penchant for donning the Vault suit.

From outside the building she’d designated as the bunk house, she heard the familiar voices carry from inside.

“Pres, you gotta ask her about it. C’mon, please?” Sturges asked, the familiar drawl striking a pain in her chest.

“Of course I’ll ask her for you, Sturges.” Preston responded, his gentle voice somehow fonder than she’d recalled it being. “I just need to figure out how-”

“Ask me what?” She stated, loud enough to reach the men inside, a small smirk creeping along her face as she heard something metal being dropped.

Preston shot his head around the doorway, a wide smile on his face. “General! You’re back sooner than expected.”

“Yeah, I uh, had business in the area.” Her tone was polite, but the tension in her words was obvious and he nodded in response, shooting MacCready a quick glance.

“I heard about Sunshine Tidings... I only got back myself this morning.” Preston answered, defending the unspoken accusation on her lips. “Outpost Zimonja had some Raiders hassling them, so I went to get them set up. A couple of our new recruits-”

“What? Who?” She blurted, looking around for any unfamiliar faces.

“A couple of kids from Diamond City, came up with that fella, what was his name?” The man paused, turning back to holler inside the house. “Sturges, what was the guys name who came up with the recruits?”

“Sheffield.” The voice answered, replaced briefly by the faint sound of hammering from somewhere deep inside the house.

Nora nodded, scanning the field behind the house before spotting the man in question. “Is he staying out of trouble?”

“He’s been great, he works almost as hard as Marcy, and the woman barely has a negative thing to say about him.” Preston replied, before continuing his earlier explanation. “Apparently, the other two came up with him and wanted to join up. Said something about doing something more with their lives than eating noodles.”

She let out a small laugh, shooting MacCready an amused glance. “Yeah, that sounds like Diamond City kids. They any good?”

“They’re better than the last couple of recruits we had in Quincy.” Preston answered dryly, the sarcasm almost imperceptible. “Anyways, they went out to bring some supplies to the Slog. Figured it was a good test of character.”

“The Slog?” MacCready interjected, his curiosity breaking his normally silent demeanor.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Nora added, shooting the mercenary a glance.

“It’s a tarberry farm. Run by ghouls.” Preston answered with a small smirk. “And before you say anything, Wiseman is more than capable of handling himself if they were to respond unkindly toward his community, but I get the sense that they’re more open minded than most.”

“Okay, I trust your judgment here.” Recalling the previous topic, she narrowed her eyes at the man. “What was Sturges wanting you to ask me about?”

“It’s about the Vault.” The Minuteman started, gauging her reaction. “He wanted... To see if he could use some of the stuff down there. I told him that- ”

“It’s fine.” Nora’s affirmation was distant, almost formal.

“Nora, you don’t -”

“Preston. I said it’s fine, let Sturges take whatever he needs from down there. I don’t care.” She fixed her gaze on Dogmeat who was stiffing at a cluster of wild carrot flowers, unable to meet the overly empathetic one watching her.

“If you want to think it -” Preston offered again, the politeness grating against her nerves as she forced her eyes toward his own, a deep anger spilling into her expression.

“That goddamn place is nothing but horrible fucking memories.” She gritted through clenched teeth, the intensity of her hatred shocking both Preston and MacCready who stood absolutely still in shock. “If I could dig the whole thing up and get rid of it, I would. That place is nothing but evil incarnate. Now. Like I said, let Sturges have full possession of the Vault and whatever is inside. That’s an order, Colonel.”

Before Preston could answer, she turned, stalking off toward her dilapidated home before disappearing inside.

“That went well.” Preston muttered as he watched her leave. MacCready shot him a sympathetic glance.

“She’s been on edge since Cambridge.” The mercenary articulated, hoping it was enough of an explanation.

“The Brotherhood?”

“Yeah... Probably my fault. I told her about some of the stunts they pulled back in the Capitol.” MacCready stated, moving to light the cigarette that had appeared between his lips.

"Understood." The taller man offered his hand toward him. “Preston Garvey, Minuteman.”

“I know who you are.” The mercenary answered, not taking the man’s hand and moving to follow where Nora had retreated to.

MacCready found her seated on the floor against the weathered counter, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against it. Codsworth floated next to her, rambling about various settlers and progress around the neighborhood. The mercenary moved to sit next to her, offering her the pack of cigarettes. Nora opened her eyes, taking the pack from his hand, removing one cigarette before lighting it.

It was only after a healthy inhale that MacCready dared to speak. “Never liked Vaults, always gave me the creeps.”

Nora chuckled at that, visibly relaxed after a few long drags on the cigarette. “Yeah, well. At least mine wasn’t full of super-mutants.”

“Fair... Didn’t take you for a smoker.” He offered, eager to change the topic.

She shrugged, flicking the ash toward the floor. “Not for many years. Well, many years even before the bombs dropped.”

He nodded in response, glancing up as Dogmeat burst through the doorway, a screwdriver in his mouth followed by an exasperated Sturges a few minutes later.

“Sorry Nora, he just ran in here, and I wouldn't normally bother, but that’s my good screwdriver.” The repair man looked nervous at the intrusion, but she moved to stand, taking the screwdriver from Dogmeat's mouth gently.

“Don’t worry about it.” She offered the tool back to him. “What are your big plans with the Vault?”

Sturges paused, trying to determining her motives, given her previous outburst, before answering. “Well, I was hoping to use some of the tech to get the fridges up and running again.”

She stubbed her cigarette on the wall, watching the peeled wallpaper singe with a sad smile before meeting his eyes. “That’s a really good idea, Sturges. Go wild, but feel free to get a fridge down to Red Rocket for me if you figure it out?”

“Yes ma’am!” He answered eagerly, offering an awkward salute before glancing behind him where Preston was now approaching. Nora wondered faintly if the ‘accidental’ incident with Dogmeat wasn’t so accidental, but she had to admire the conspiring between them.

“Oh, and thanks for fixing up the Power Armor. I saw it this morning.” She volunteered, figuring it was better to keep Sturges on her good side.

“Of course. Figured you’d need it sooner or later.” He smiled sheepishly and nodded to Preston before turning to get started on his new project.

“That’s cute, Preston. Real sly.” She smarted, the faint blush on the man’s neck evidence she’d been right about her deduction.

“General. I wanted to -”

Nora held up her hand. “No, Pres. I’m sorry, I overreacted. What Sturges is trying to do is, well quite frankly, amazing. I acted like an asshole and was ordering you around like a soldier and that’s... that’s not who I am. Even worse, I was being a shitty friend... After everything you’ve done for me. As much as you want me to be this badass General, I’m not.”

“I dunno, boss.” MacCready chimed in. “You’re pretty badass and well, I could definitely see ya bossing us all around.”

Prestoon smiled, an unspoken alliance formed between the two men in an instant. “You should have seen her take on a Deathclaw single handedly.”

“I’ve only heard the stories.” The mercenary answered. “I’m sure she was being modest.”

Nora let out a gruff laugh, her throat raw from the two century old tobacco. “I’m anything but modest.”

After a brief chuckle, the trio fell silent, even Codsworth had nothing to add at the moment. Nora could feel herself deflate slightly, ashamed at her frequent outbursts of anger, especially considering she'd taken the most recent one out on Preston, of all people.

Preston watched her, his worried eyes trying to analyze her mental state in conjunction with her erratic behavior.

“What’s going on Nora? I thought you were headed to Diamond City to find your son.” He asked, braver than the rest of them as he finally broke the awkward silence.

*

Haylen watched as Danse headed toward the garage, listening patiently for the click of the latch before sneaking up to the roof where Rhys was keeping watch, the repaired transmitter gently cradled in her hand.

“Don’t think too hard, big guy.” She chimed as she saw him, walking toward the radio beacon to inspect the wiring. Rhys turned toward her and shot her a smirk.

“You calling me dumb?” He quipped, watching her amused expression.

“Hmm... I haven’t decided yet.”

“And what does one have to do for the all-knowing Scribe Haylen to consider them worthy?” Rhys glanced toward the barricade briefly, before focusing his attention on his friend and colleague.

“How about you give me your take on what the hell we walked in on the other night?” She moved to sit on the metal crate while she fiddled with prepping the copper wires.

He nodded thoughtfully as she watched him. “Monsignor Plaza definitely had more ghouls than I thought-”

“Not that, Rhys. Jesus.” She rolled her eyes, returning to her work.

“That’s not... It’s not our business to discuss whatever it was that Paladin Danse and Initiate Hartt were discussing the other night.” Rhys answered firmly, turning back to scan the horizon.

“Oh come on!” She demanded, moving to stand back up, groaning as a piece of wire broke at her sudden movement. “Rhys, they were holding hands. Even you’re not that naive to think that -”

“That’s enough, Scribe.” He barked, looking at her as she recoiled at the order. She shook her head, grabbing the device off the metal bin. “We have our orders, that is our priority, and I recommend you follow them.”

“You Brotherhood guys are all the same. No room for anything else but the fucking mission.” Haylen snapped, headed back toward the stairs.

Rhys’ mouth fell open, not only at the display of disrespect but at the anger he’d seen in her. A sense of panic began to grow at her words as she retreated, recalling the conversation he’d had with his superior not too long before. He kicked himself for being so ignorant to truly think that he couldn't have a relationship as a knight. Hell, even Danse voiced his approval, but he had been so content to stick his head in the sand and deny his feelings.

“Haylen.” He said, rushing over to where she stood at the door to the stairway. Shooting him a brief glare, she reached for the door handle, pulling it open. “Sarah, please.”

She froze at his use of her first name, the sound so foreign on his lips, but she did not turn to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” Rhys muttered, no longer the confident soldier he had been only minutes before. He reached for her forearm, hesitating only briefly before touching her. “I was being a dick.”

Haylen kept her stare on the door handle, only tensing slightly at the sudden contact, but she still unwilling to look up at him. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

“I’m sorry. Please look at me.” He pleaded softly, squeezing her arm gently.

The unusual desperation in his tone broke her gaze from the door and up to meet his own. “Rhys...”

“We’re not all like that...” He started, unsure how to express the thoughts that weaving their web inside his mind. “I’m not... I don’t want to be like that.”

“Okay.” She answered quietly.

As much as she wanted to hope Rhys meant what he was implying, she had embarrassed herself once before and wasn’t willing to strike out twice. Rhys stepped closer, carefully moving his hand to touch Haylen’s cheek, gently caressing it.

“I was wrong, before. I’d like to make it up to you, if you’d let me.” Rhys offered. Her breath hitched and she nodded, his rough hand suddenly very warm against her cheek.

Rhys leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on her lips, the movement cautious and uncertain. She released the handle, moving her hand to the back of his neck, reciprocating the movement. As he pulled away, she let out a quick breath at the loss of contact, eyeing him as if she expected him to run.

He smiled in response, leaning in for another kiss, this time much hungrier and deeper than before. Haylen tugged at Rhys’ collar, pulling herself closer at the contact, before pulling away was a small gasp.

“I, uh, that was...” She started, blinking quickly.

“I’m such an idiot.” Rhys whispered, kissing her once more before moving his hand to her waist. “I was such an idiot before, I’m sorry Sarah.”

She smirked, placing her hand on his cheek. “I know Rhys, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lifts up Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen* I just think they're neat!


	17. Uranium Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'When I find that big uranium rock  
> Money-money honey, the kind you fold  
> Money-money honey, rock 'n' roll  
> Rake it in, bale it up like hay  
> Have a rockin' good time and throw it all away'

Nora had managed to make it through her recount of the last couple weeks to Preston without breaking down and weeping, a fact which made her feel both proud and pathetic all in one fell swoop. Before the bombs had dropped, she had never been the best at suppressing her emotions, but she did usually have the forethought not to cry in front of anyone except Nate.

Apparently having the love of your life murdered in front of you, your son kidnapped and probably long dead, and losing everyone you’d ever known in instant, had a bit of an effect on a person’s psyche. The rational part of her brain told her that she was doing the best she could, considering the situation, but the ego-centric part of her was ashamed of her weakness.

Ashamed for not doing more, for not waking up sooner, for not mourning as much as she should, and for mourning too much for things she couldn’t change.

Nora knew that if she was back in 2077, her former therapist would probably considered her ‘unstable’ or ‘at risk for psychosis’, but none of that mattered anymore.

Hell, she thought, who in the Commonwealth isn’t both of those things? How could anyone still be sane after dealing with the constant bombardment of threats the wasteland had to offer?

The settlers of Sanctuary had gathered around a bonfire, buzzing with chatter surrounding the impromptu return of their General. She at least knew how to fake graciousness when they approached her, having had plenty of experience with forced professionalism when citizens would approach her and make awkward small talk. After a decent hour of pleasantries, when her appearance no longer seemed to be required, she quietly slipped away, stealing off with a few lukewarm beers and ambling toward the bridge. Almost as soon as she settled down, legs hanging over the wall, overlooking the once crystal-clear ravine, she heard heavy steps approaching from behind her.

“Mac, for a sniper you sure stomp like a supermutant.” She teased, shooting a glance behind her as he came into sight.

“That’s cause I want you to hear me, boss.” He retorted, moving to settle next to her, grabbing one of the bottles seated next to her thigh. “If I didn’t want you to, you’d never see me coming.”

She hummed in response, eyes glazed over as she toyed with the thoughts harassing her. All she could think about when she closed her eyes were the faces of the settlers, regarding her with a mix of wonder and apprehension. It wasn’t all that different from how people would look at her before the war, when she’d walk into a fueling station or a Slocum Joes in uniform.

Distrust or respect, sometimes a mixture of both.

“Cap for your thoughts.” MacCready prodded as Nora refocused, staring at the bottle in her hands.

“Just one? Hell of a discount you’re getting.” She smarted back, considering where she could redirect the conversation that could distract her from the insurmountable sense of responsibility she was suddenly aware had been bestowed upon her with her new title of 'General'. “Why don’t you curse?”

A sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had heard her, the resulting moments filled with silence before he finally answered.

“Yeah, I figured you'd ask me about this sooner or later.” The mumbled reply was vulnerable in a way Nora had not heard her friend be before, and she knew they were about to breach sensitive territory. “Might as well tell ya, considering everything... It’s not about you, it’s about a promise I made, to Duncan.”

“Okay.” She answered, her tone soft but empathetic, offering subtle encouragement for him to continue. “That’s fair.”

“I left the Capitol Wasteland to try and help provide for my family. I had a beautiful wife, Lucy...” He paused, looking at a fixed spot of nothingness on the dark horizon before continuing after a few heavy swallows. Nora didn’t have to ask what he meant, the word ‘had’ was enough to gather that she had been another victim of the wasteland. “But, Duncan... I made a promise to clean up my act and to be a better person, for him... I guess that sounds pretty stupid coming from a guy who shoots people for a living.”

“You did what you had to do.” She answered, firm but supportive. “I’d kill every single person in this god-forsaken world for my son, Mac. Without a second thought.”

MacCready offered a small smile in response, apprehension Nora recognized. As dejected as he looked, his posture was tense and anxious. The man fiddled with the bottlecap between his fingers, and immediately she recognized that he wanted to ask her something.

“What is it, Mac?” She urged, nudging him in his arm. “This is bigger than some old Gunners, isn’t it?”

He let out a breath, shooting her a guarded glance. “You really don’t pull any punches, huh?”

“I was never known for my subtly.” She admitted, downing the rest of her warm beer with a grimace.

“Duncan’s sick. I don't know what's wrong with him. One day, he's playing out in the fields behind our farm... the next he took a fever and these blue boils popped up all over his body...”

“You didn’t just come here to get those assholes off your back did you?” As much as it was posed as a question, they both knew it wasn’t. Nora nodded quickly, processing his words as much as what he hadn’t said. “So there’s something here in Boston that can help him... How serious is this?”

He finished his own drink, looking away from her as stubborn tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. “Last I saw he was almost to weak to walk. Honestly, I don't know how much longer he's going to last. I know I got no right to ask...”

“I’m there, Mac.” The assurance snapped MacCready’s eyes to her own, unwavering gaze. “Where are we headed?”

*

“I’m about fucking sick of ferals, goddamn it.” She cursed, nose crinkling at the scent of death and decay, her adrenaline having long since worn off as they walked into the abandoned diner. “Can’t smell just like normal ghouls, hell I’d take supermutants over these...”

Nora stopped suddenly, tugging at the clasps of her chest and arm armor, which quickly dropped to the floor. In a quick movement she pulled her knife from her collar and unzipped her Vault suit.

“Uhm... boss?” MacCready offered, shooting a cautious glance around them where they were barely concealed inside the Slocum Joes.

“What? You want to walk to Diamond City with me smelling like rotten feral blood?” She snapped, exhaustion wearing against her already short temper.

It had taken them a whole day to get to Greentop Nursery, a variety of supermutant camps stopping any meaningful progress. The radiation storm had forced them to stick to camp that night, where of course, the settlers had multiple things they needed help with.

Not only had the other settlement she was supposed to check on, Breakheart Banks, been compromised by supermutants, but of course there was a feral ghoul problem, that wasn’t even including the matter at Med-Tek’s less than scrupulous research facility. Between MacCready, Dogmeat, and herself, they’d barely manage to grab the cure before it was decided that running from the rest of the unwelcome residents of the facility was their best bet.

Nora had managed to get the top half of the suit pulled to her waist, a mere undershirt the only protection against the chill of the night air, as she began sawing at the fabric more aggressively than she’d intended. After a few long, and frankly mortifying, minutes as she struggled with the fabric, the top half of the suit was on the ground and she was pulling a pair of worn jeans over the bottom of the outfit, held on exclusively by the holster and armor she had over it.

“Sorry, Mac. I’m... I’m fucking exhausted after that.” She shuddered, thinking about the experiments the facility had been conducting on it’s subjects. Watching MacCready’s nervous fiddling with the large, red syringe as Dogmeat stared at her from where he sat next to the mercenaries feet, she forced a smile to her face. “But we got it, man. Duncan has a chance now.”

He nodded, eyes cautiously scanning the horizon before turning back to her, armor now replaced over her undershirt. “Thanks to you, that is.”

“Thanks to you, Mac.” She approached him, pulling him into a hug which he awkwardly returned before pulling away. “You’re a good dad. He’s lucky to have you in his corner.”

A small, sad sigh escaped MacCready as he nodded, the compliment had been exactly what he needed to hear, but his own anxiety prevented him from acknowledging it. “I hope it’s not too late.”

“Listen, until you know, don’t go down that rabbit hole. It’ll only distract you, and you know damn well what that means out here.” Nora’s tone was firm, grasping the mercenary’s shoulders steadily as she spoke. “You’re no good to him if you go and let something get the drop on you.”

MacCready finally refocused, once again scanning the area and placing the syringe in the pocker of his coat.

“Bunker Hill is about an hour and half south of here.” He stated, gesturing in a vague direction. “It’s no Diamond City, but it’s our best bet this far out.”

Dogmeat stood suddenly, realizing their little pow-wow was over and began heading toward where MacCready had indicated. Shaking her head, Nora began following, constantly amazed at the animal’s perception.

The walk, had mercifully, been peaceful as the trio snuck quietly through the shadows, avoiding any of the major known hot-spots for their less-than hospitable activity. After the draining last couple of days they had, neither of them were particularly eager to start a fight with any of the Commonwealth’s ugliness that night.

Save for the strange drifter who seemed to watch them more intently than she deemed appropriate as they walked into Bunker Hill, no one even bothered to look at the raggedy trio as they crossed the threshold. She suddenly felt very uneasy, a protective panic filling her chest as she wonder if the Gunners had heard about their escapades at Med-Tek. Without warning, she dragged MacCready back out of the settlement, into the street just as she saw a uniformed Raider step out from around a wall.

“Gunners.” He gasped quietly, squeezing himself further back into the shadows as she nodded her affirmation. Forcing herself to swallow, Nora quickly scanned the area, unconsciously moving in front of MacCready despite the fact that she couldn’t fully conceal him behind her form.

She was aware once more of someone staring at her, the familiar prickling sensation causing the hairs to stand on the back of her neck, but before she could find it’s source, a fight had broken out near the back of the make-shift bar.

“Let’s go.” She ordered, briskly slipping away from the front steps, everyone’s attention now turned toward the scuffle inside.

It wasn’t until a good twenty minutes later, once across the bridge from Bunker Hill that she dared to speak. “Well, I gotta say... That shit was too close for comfort.”

He paused, leaning against a rusted old trashcan momentarily to light a cigarette be responding. “No kidding... That’d be fu- freaking ironic. Walk right into a Gunner's nest after getting Duncan's cure.”

She let out a small chuckle, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed them out of there. Bringing her PipBoy up, she scanned the map, trying to make sense of it’s outdated landmarks. Sturges had already enabled the two way radio on it, but she wondered if he could do something about the outdated map features.

“I’ve been staring at this thing, and I still have no idea where we are in reference, to well... anything.” She admitted, a hopelessness in the statement as she gestured toward the crumbling buildings. They were both exhausted and hanging around anywhere for too long in the dead of night, particularly in their state, was a death sentence for one or both of them. Hell, even Dogmeat was beginning to slow down, not even pacing around her feet as he waited for them to head out.

“Well,” MacCready drop the cigarette, crushing it under his boot before moving to stand strait up again as he smugly continued. “Your fancy tech isn’t all that, boss. Goodneighbor’s just around the corner.”

“And by around the corner, you mean another thirty minute walk through mutant camps and pissed off Raiders?” She quipped back, relieved to see her friend’s plucky demeanor return, much more reminiscent of the pissed-off young man she’d snatched up from the back of the Third Rail.

“Something like that. But... I might happen to know a shortcut.” With that, he strode forward, leading her down an unfamiliar alley. Then again, at night all the alleys looked fairly unfamiliar to her.

*

Despite her protests the next morning, MacCready insisted on accompanying her back to Diamond City. He was in notably improved spirits, either from the night of rest on an actual bed or, she thought more likely, the fact that he’d already sent the cure off to the Capitol with one of Daisy’s passing traders.

In normal circumstances, Nora would have been elated to see the young man so enthusiastic and relaxed, but her exhaustion had not been remedied by the night of sleep. Even after she had learned that Mayor Hancock had stationed one of his bodyguards outside her door, waving away her protests of ‘not necessary’ and ‘overreaction’ that she’d been too worn out to argue longer than a few moments, her sleep had been fitful, undercut by frequent nightmares and a growing anxiety that nettled her thoughts.

The nervous flipping of her stomach only grew stronger as they approached the outer walls of Diamond City. She briefly considered asking MacCready, for the third time so far on their trek, if he was really sure about waiting to take care of Winlock and Barnes until after they got met with Valentine. But, as he had already reminded her, they had left the Power Armor back at Sanctuary and Nick was waiting for them. Not to mention the fact that they were already almost a week late to their scheduled rendezvous back at the agency because of all their extra stops.

“Nora.” MacCready’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she realized she had stopped walking, standing just far enough away from the entrance to the city. She turned to meet his eyes, unable to speak. “Until you know, don’t go down that rabbit hole.”

Hearing her own reassurance from her friends lips brought a small smirk to her lips. “The words of a great philosopher, huh?”

“Something like that.” He responded, patting her shoulder awkwardly in an attempt at comfort. In spite of his unfamiliarity with such vulnerable contact, Nora felt herself relax marginally at the sentiment behind it. She began walking toward door, which was now creaking open, despite the fact that no one else seemed to be in the vicinity.

“That’s... disconcerting.” She mumbled, half to herself.

“If that means really freaking weird, I agree, boss.” MacCready whispered carefully back to her as they approached the entrance.

The answer to their question came in the form of an excited screech. “BLUE!”

“Jesus fu-” Before she could finish speaking, Piper’s arms were around her shoulders, the arms capable of much more strength than she’d originally given them credit for.”Hey, Piper.”

“Where the hell have you been!” She demanded, pulling away to offer Nora her attempt at a scolding expression.

“Long story.”

“Ugh, you always say that.” Piper complained, shooting MacCready a brief glance. “You getting her into trouble or something?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” MacCready smarted, moving past the women as he trekked into the city with an amused smile, Dogmeat following eagerly behind him.

“So how did you get control of Diamond City’s gate?” Nora asked, draw Piper’s attention away from whatever smart comment she was on the verge of making about the mercenary.

Fortunately, Piper began launching into details about her recent second date with Danny Sullivan as they began walking toward the marketplace.

As they approached, Nora was suddenly aware of someone watching her, yet again, and she turned, catching a pair of guards waiting by the platform up to the Mayor’s office, staring at her. She went to turn to mention it to Piper, when she realized everyone was staring at her as the they made their way through the market.

“And I even got a few people asking about how to join the Minutemen!” Piper finished, excitedly turning to her.

“What?” Nora retorted, realizing she had tuned out almost everything that the reporter had said since her rendition of her date.

“Well, don’t get mad,” The younger woman cautioned as she groaned in response to the statement.

“Piper...” She warned.

“Okay, so I knew the article was going to be a big deal with your statement about the Institute and everything... So, I may have also added on the back page that an unknown ‘General Smith’ was rebuilding the Minutemen. From the ground up.”

Nora’s eyes went wide, suddenly remembering she’d given Piper the go-ahead to publish her life story for the entire Commonwealth to entertain. It was no wonder everyone was staring at her.

“The article.” She stated plainly, shooting a harsh glance at one of the onlookers who reeled away like she’d struck him.

“Oh my God, Blue. It’s been so popular, our best piece yet. We had to print a second set of papers! I even got a few donations. Donations! To keep the paper up and running.” Piper smiled widely. Her excitement was infectious and Nora softened at the woman's eagerness. It was rare to find someone so passionate about their trade in her old life, and she figured it was much less common now in the Commonwealth, so she acquiesced.

“That’s great Piper. I’m glad it was a hit.” She offered, pointing toward the alleyway entrance. “I got to check in with Valentine, I’ll stop buy in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me an explanation for disappearing on me! Off the record.” The reporter gave her a quick hug before leaving. “I’ll be at the Publick if you need me.”

Nora watched the woman retreat, letting out a breath she had been holding. As much as she liked Piper, the woman's energetic vigor could be overwhelming, and given the emotional unrest she was already dealing with, the reporter’s absence offered a peaceful solitude.

She quietly walked down the alley way, pausing only briefly before pushing the door open to the door to the agency. Nick was seated in a chair, his feet kicked up on the desk as he poured over a manila file.

“Leave it to you to scavenge old manila folders for your cases.” She smarted, moving to flop down in the chair next to him. He scanned her slowly, the yellow glow of his eyes was only slightly unnerving as he examined her face.

“Gotta say doll, I thought you’d up and ran out on me for a hot minute.” Nick finally stated, his tone even, but she immediately heard the twinge of irritation.

“Aw, I could never leave ya on your own out here,” As she moved to shrug her pack off her shoulder, Nick watched her quizzically. “But, I knew you were gonna be mad, so I came prepared.”

Nora quickly pulled a yellow and red tin, presenting it toward the detective who looked about as surprised as she remembered him capable of looking.

“This tin better not be filled with spring tubes or some shit.” Nick grumbled, pulling the lid back ever so slightly to peer inside before relaxing. “Cafe Bustelo. Where the hell did you get this?”

She settled back into her seat, a wry smirk on her face. “Codsworth kept some in the root cellar. Figured you’d appreciate some of my stash.”

“Codsworth? That old bucket of bolts is still kickin’?”

“Yeah. He waited 200 years trying to clean the house and polish the Corvega until I got back.” Nick raised an eyebrow, the coffee tin clutched firmly in his hands, as she continued. “Maybe I’ll arrange a play date. You two might get along better now.”

“That’s cute, Nora. Think of that one all your self or did the pipsqueak help you with that?” He smarted back, moving to place the tin in a locked drawer of his desk.

“Pipsqueak?” Nora asked, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she eyed the folder, wondering if it was the lead on Kellogg or just another missing drifter that had up and left their family behind.

“Yeah, that kid running around with ya, following at your heels like a pup.” Nick waved his free hand before offering the folder to her.

“MacCready?” The folder felt like it was burning a hole in her hand, but god she did not want to look desperate flipping through it. Nick grunted in response, pointing toward the folder.

“All the intel I could scrape on Kellogg so far. I have another lead, but they’re a little... eccentric.” She carefully opened the folder, her chest suddenly felt hollow, scanning the small photograph of the man who’s face had haunted her for the last month, angry and glaring at the camera. “Rumor is Kellogg is holed up at an old military base, but as for which one, I couldn’t say. We have a few of them left, but checking each one would tip him off too easily.”

“I know exactly where he is.” Her voice felt tight, the base of her neck prickled as she felt unable to swallow as everything around her seemed to fade away.

She was vaguely aware that Nick was speaking, asking her something, but all she could see was Kellogg’s dark, hateful eyes, the words he’d said in the cold Vault were the only thing she was able to hear as they echoed in her mind.

*

“It’s the Vault Tec guy, again.” Nate called out, peaking his head around the door to the nursery with a small smirk. “I think he’s waiting for the boss of the house.”

“Oh shut up.” She groaned, winking as she moved to stand, Shaun still cradled in her arms. Almost as if knowing he was about to be put back to bed, Shaun looked up at her, his tiny arms waving toward her, trying to grab her hair as she placed him back into the crib. “Shh, sweetheart. Mommy will be right back, okay?”

Nora kept her hand rubbing Shaun’s back for a few moments longer, just enough that she started to see the flutter of his eyelids guiding him to sleep. A few careful steps away from the crib told her she was safe enough to exit the room without waking him back up, assuming she didn’t trip over anything along the way.

She entered the hallway, watching Nate sip his coffee, shooting an amused gaze toward the door. Codsworth was also pretending to work, dusting the same corner of the counter he’d been working on when she got up to change Shaun a few minutes before. Her gaze flickered between them skeptically when it dawned on her, _they were preparing for the show_.

The eager Vault Tec representative had been hounding them on and off for the past month, trying to get them to sign up with a variety of poorly executed sales methods. On one hand, she had to admire the persistence. On the other hand, she had a two week old baby and if she got woken up from one of her rare chances to sleep one more time, she was certain she was going to lose her shit on the guy. Apparently Nate and Codsworth had the same impression.

Painting a friendly smile on her face, she opened the door, the enthusiastic face of the representative breaking into a big smile. “Mrs. Hartt! How wonderful to see you again. Have you thought about our previous conversation?”

“Listen, I appreciate the persistence of Vault Tec’s business model, but I’m not sure-” She started.

“Mrs. Hartt, I don’t mean to be rude.” The man sighed, suddenly looking like an abandoned puppy in the rain. “I was told in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t get Captain Smith’s daughter and her family registered for Vault 111, I might as well not come back at all.”

Nora let out a small laugh, shaking her head. Any of the irritation or lecture she'd been planning gone in an instant. The man's persistence made much more sense now, and she took pity on him immediately. Besides, she figured if she just agreed, he'd at least stop dropping by. “That stubborn bastard... Fine, man, sure we sign up or whatever.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” He gushed, handing her a variety of paperwork. “You’re pre-approved for entry, nothing needs signing, not officially. After your father worked so hard to get Vault-Tec to partner with the the federal government, it’s the least we could do to make sure you’re prepared for the future! ”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” She mumbled awkwardly, taking the paperwork with a small wave as the man rushed off toward the end of the street and out of view. Closing the door, she was met with Nate and Codsworth’s eager gaze. “I guess we’re the proud new owners of a fine plot of real estate in an underground tomb.”

“Hun... That’s not funny.” Nate offered, eyeing her face to gauge if she was joking. “This isn’t a bad thing. Hopefully we never need it, but, I’m honestly just surprised you caved more than anything.”

She paused, tossing the papers on the side table, looking away from them. “Said something about how he was being pressured to make sure Captain Smith’s daughter signed up.”

She forced a shrug, looking away from the sets of eyes on her, moving toward the kitchen to grab, well, anything to keep herself busy.

“Nora, I’m sorry.” As soon as he said it, she felt his arms around her waist, pulling her toward his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder. He knew that when she was escalated, it was better to just wait for her to speak her mind on the matter.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s what he would’ve wanted. Probably made those creepy bastards put it in his contract or some shit.” She muttered, relaxing against Nate who placed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“He would want you to be safe, that’s the important thing.” Nate reassured her, moving until the were face to face.

“I don’t trust them, there’s something off about it all.” She shook her head, sighing as she tried to scrutinize the prospect. “It’s whatever, like you said. We don’t have to use the thing at all.”

“I have been known to make a good argument on occasion.” He joked, moving to catch her lips in a quick kiss. “Don’t worry about it too much. We have a birthday to plan for a certain nosy-trouble making friend of yours.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She whispered, smiling fondly as he pulled away, turning to go through the cardboard box on the counter.

*

She blinked slowly, the fuzziness in her vision solidifying into solid figures, objects compiling together to fill the scene around her as she came back to her reality. The old, rusted desk barely standing on it’s own was the first thing she recognized.

A stack of manila folders piled on the corner, a deeper shade of yellow than she remembered, either from time or smoke. The smell of dampness and dirt surrounded her. Had her eyes not been open she would have sworn they were underground.

_Valentine’s Detective Agency._

She looked up, meeting Nick’s gaze. The man was once again kicked back in his seat, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he gripped a small notebook, reading over the scribbled writing.

“Sorry Nick, I spaced out, you were saying something about your contact?” She offered, embarrassed by her lack of attention, especially given the gravity of the situation.

“You been doing that a lot recently?” Nick asked, his tone careful and calculated. Something about his demeanor was screaming at her, but she couldn’t quite place what the message was.

“I’ve been more tired recently. Hard to find a decent hotel these days, you know?” She joked, but Nick didn’t react in the slightest. “Don’t get me started on room service.”

Nick shot a look behind her, MacCready had situated himself on the couch, Dogmeat asleep in his lap with the mercenary’s arm thrown over him. She hadn’t even heard them come in and wondered how long she’d been daydreaming.

“She’s been spacing out a bit, yeah. Nothing like this though.” MacCready answered, shooting her an apologetic glance. “Sorry, boss.”

“Guys, I’m fine.” She groaned, reaching for the folder that she had dropped to the floor in her daydream. As soon as she saw Kellogg’s picture, she recalled what had triggered the memory and her sympathetic nervous system began roaring in overdrive in an instant. She was ready to take the fight to the smug bastard, finally get her answers. “Like I said, I know exactly where the bastard is.”

“Nora, kid.” Nick warned as he stood, walking toward where she had been seated. “I think you need to take another day before we go -”

“Absolutely not.” She snapped, pulling herself up and stepping closer to him, her shoulder squared as her cold gaze scanned his face. A fervent panic begun welling up inside her at the suggestion of waiting and she suddenly felt very trapped inside the office, her heart rate pounding in her ears as she considered her options. She didn’t think Nick would try to stop her, but Shaun was so close, she could almost see his tiny toes and his pudgy cheeks.“You can stay back all you want, but I’m getting Shaun.”

“You said you knew where Kellogg's hiding... Feel free to share with the class?” Nick asked, glancing back toward where MacCready who was now standing as well, watching the exchange with quick, darting eyes.

Nora scanned the mercenary’s face, figuring out exactly what had transpired while she was busy taking her stroll down memory lane. As much as the back of her mind was screaming at her to pump the breaks, everyone in between her and Fort Hagen looked like an enemy, just another clever obstacle to be thrown in her way. MacCready offered her a quick nod, almost imperceptible, and she felt relief in the solidarity. If it came down to it, she was confidant she could get passed Nick, one way or another, but the younger man was another story.

“This is a game to this fucker.” She spat, deciding there was no point in hiding it from Nick. He could either stay back as she and MacCready dealt with Kellogg or come with, it didn’t matter to her anymore. Her blood still pounded in her ears, thinking about the day her father had proudly told her the news that he was being stationed in Boston. A feeble attempt to rekindle their ruined relationship. “He went back to where it all began.” 

“Love the dramatic one liners here doll, but I’d appreciate a bit more information before we go headed into the belly of the beast.” Nick stated, recognizing with a resigned sigh that there was no stopping the pair of idiots from rushing in head-first. “Kellogg is gonna be surrounded by top of the line defenses, we need to be on our game for this.”

Despite her growing irritation, she knew Nick was right and forced herself to explain. “My father was a member of the Army Special Forces, he was temporarily stationed at Fort Hagen while on medical leave for a grand total of two months. He was helping with a tour one day for these pretentious asshole scientists, eager to peddle their new uranium-based tech to the highest bidder. My father recognized the potential benefits of said technology if it could be applied to the battlefield and unintentionally spearheaded the deal that associated Vault-Tec with the federal government. Vault-Tec gave them cutting edge uranium weapons and technology, the feds funded their Vault project. It’s... It’s all some cosmic joke, really. Hell, they have a plaque for him at Fort Hagen and everything. He’s the accidental hero of Vault-Tec, and he didn't even intend for it to happen.”

“Dang, Nora.” MacCready said suddenly, the first the break the heavy tension that had settled around them at the confession.

“If Kellogg really is at Fort Hagen, that gives credence to a bigger concern.” Nick stated, watching as all eyes turned on him. “It means one of two things. Given the significance of the place, he’s either waiting for you, or someone is leading you straight to him.”

“I don’t know which is worse.” She muttered, forcing herself to breath in slowly. All she could think about was that if Nate were here, he’d know what to do, know how to calm her down and talk her through everything, know the right decisions to make. "I don't understand why he'd want me to find him."

“There’s only one way to find out.” MacCready volunteered, gesturing toward the door. They exchanged nervous glances, the significance of what they were up against not lost on any one in the group.


	18. Butcher Pete (Pt 1.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Butcher Pete's got a long sharp knife  
> He starts choppin' and don't know when to stop  
> All you fellows gotta watch your wifes  
> 'Cause Pete don't care who's meat he chops'

Fort Hagen was much better fortified than any of them had anticipated. Fortunately Dogmeat proved to be a vital member of their team and had been more than capable in helping them navigate the area, even if they hadn’t needed his skills to find the location outright.

Dogmeat had been able to discern precisely where many of the mines were scattered along the path, hunkering down and growling every time they got close to one of the devices. Nora might have found the very blatant trail of clues almost amusing, if not for their implication that they were absolutely walking head-first into a trap of some sort. Nick made quick work deactivating the explosives, careful not to trip any in the process, while MacCready was able to scope out the base from a distance, spotting and taking out the turrets on the roof before they were even close to being in their range.

By the time Dogmeat had found the roof access after only a brief whiff of the pack of cigars, leading the begrudging trio straight to the ominous metal doors, there had been no signs of movement around the building for a good fifteen minutes.

Despite her initial fervor to locate and dole out her idea of absolute justice to Kellogg, the sight of the metal doors sent a jolt of panic down her spine, her legs abruptly unwilling to move her closer to their target. Dogmeat whimpered next to her, as if confirming the validity of her sudden insurgence of fear, and Nick shot her a wary glance at her sudden lack of movement.

The air was electric, rife with unspoken danger; her ears prickling slightly at the buzz of electricity around her.

“There’s a fuck ton of synths down there... I recognize the sound, it’s how they appear, or something, some flash of electricity.” Nora whispered, eyes going wide at the realization and she met MacCready’s own terrified gaze. “Mac, get the fuck out of here. Take Dogmeat with you, drop him off at Piper's. She'll look after him.”

“Boss, I don’t think that’s-” He started but immediately silenced as she raised her hand to his protest.

“I know you think you owe me or some noble shit, but you don’t.” She moved toward him, gripping him in a tight hug. “Go be with your son. If I were you, I’d have left back in Goodneighbor. Please, for me, go be with Duncan.”

MacCready sniffed faintly, giving her a small squeeze before he nodded, releasing her arms. “Okay... but only on one condition.”

“You mercenaries and your conditions...” She joked, a sad laugh rolling off her lips.

“You meet up with us after all this, back in Sanctuary. It’s ten times safer than the Capitol.” He waved away her raised eyebrow, ignoring Nick’s small smirk behind them. “Besides, the place is in need of some protection. Might as well make myself useful, yeah?”

“Yeah, Mac.” Nora could feel her heart ache at the promise, but agreed nonetheless. “Go be with your son. I'll see you at Sanctuary.”

_Maybe, unless Kellogg gets the drop on us and finishes what he started._

MacCready turned, fighting his own insurgence of emotion from showing on his face. As much as he wanted to stay and fight with her, she was right. Every moment he spent away from Duncan was absolute agony.

Besides, if she needed to take Kellogg down on her own, he knew it was not his place to interject himself in the fight. Dogmeat followed behind him, the pair headed back toward Diamond City with heavy hearts and a growing concern for their friend that they couldn’t quite quell.

Nora watched as the pair left, their figures passing out of her sight at the fueling station before turning back toward her old friend. He shot her a sympathetic glance, already ten steps ahead of her thoughts.

“You can forget about dismissing me, doll. I’m not going anywhere.” Nick offered with a shrug. “You know, one late night when working on the Winters case, Nate told me to look after you, just in case any of Winters' men came after him. Call it keeping a promise.”

She nodded, rubbing the backs of her palms against her eyes. Red-eyed and tear streaked was not the way she wanted to confront the monster who had ripped her life apart, and she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

After a few long minutes of trying to compose herself, Nora stood, motioning Nick toward the roof access. “Any last words, Detective Valentine?”

“Give ‘em hell, Hartt.” He retorted, his normally amused tone now somber. A brief nod and a tense smile later, he watched her descend into the building, following close behind.

*

‘If it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.’

As soon as she heard the voice echo over the loud speaker, she felt her blood begin to boil. She rushed in to clear every room they encountered, each one dealt with far quicker than the last. She didn’t even bother to check if her shots had met their intended target, only focused on getting passed the damn robotic army. Focused on getting her hands on the man hiding behind a horde of mechanical men like a coward. It didn’t matter if the synth’s were down, as long as they got out of her fucking way.

With each taunt he threw her way as she got ever closer, the blind rage she was desperately trying to reign in was flourishing, nourished by every claim Kellogg made. The last rational brain cell she could hear over the boiling sea of wrath consuming her thoughts, _knew_ that Kellogg was trying to rile her up. He wanted to see her reaction, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. She’d give him the whole damn show.

‘You've got guts and determination, and that's admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can't possibly comprehend.’

She was somewhat aware that Nick was speaking to her, warning her of something by his stern, paternal tone of voice. Unfortunately for Nick, the paternal tone was long past having an affect on her, her focus on finding Kellogg and Shaun. Whatever the detective had been saying to her had fallen on deaf ears.

_Disappointing fathers is what I do best, after all..._

‘I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk.’

Nora paused, staring at the intercom over her head, the fluttering in her stomach devolving into a black hole of nausea. Of all the things she had been expecting, that was definitely not it. The fact of it was, she hadn’t expected anything beyond destroying Kellogg the same way he had destroyed her. She wondered if he thought that was why she had tracked him down, for revenge.

_Shaun._

The name was enough to clear a small space in her mind, allowing her to focus on what they were doing here. 

_Objectives. Find Kellogg. Get him to reveal where Shaun is._

“This is about finding Shaun, remember that.” Nick whispered, coming up to her side and nudging her forward with his shoulder. “Think about your son.”

Nora nodded, grateful Nick hadn’t turned tail and left her when she considered dismissing him earlier, or any other time during her suicidal rampage against the Gen 2 synths they’d encountered.

He was the only voice of reason she had for now, and she was going to need him if she had any hope of getting her son back.

Her breath hitched in her throat when Nick pressed the button, the door in front of them sliding open. Kellogg was standing in front of four, perfectly motionless synths, all eyes trained right on her. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on Righteous, already raised into a firing position.

“And there she is. The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth. Funny, in another world I might have really liked you.” Kellogg spoke, his voice lighter than the gravelly, wicked sound that had been haunting her for the past month. _He's just a man. A boring, ordinary man._ He watched her, his mouth turned in an amused smile, like a cat with his mouse. “Shame we had to meet like this, er, well, officially meet that is.”

“Alright, Kellogg.” Nick started, his pistol pointed directly at the other man’s head. “Enough with the games, where’s the kid?”

“You came a long way. Let's hear it.” Kellogg raised an amused eyebrow at the statement, his eyes never moving from Nora’s.

“Where is my son?” Her voice was so cold and dangerous, she almost didn’t recognize it at first. “Take me to Shaun.”

Kellogg laughed at the order, entertained by her tenacity. “Oh sweetheart, I'm just a puppet like you. My stage is a little bigger, that's all. Shaun's a good kid. So maybe he's not quite a ‘baby’ anymore. But he's doing great. Only... he's not here. He's with the people pulling the strings.”

“The Institute. You’re going to take me there, right now.” She growled, finger already raised off the trigger guard. All he had to do was indicate that he was just as useless to her alive as he was dead, her head was abuzz with malicious excitement at the idea of ending his miserable existence.

“Come on, you’re not a complete idiot. Haven’t you been paying attention? You don't find the Institute. The Institute finds you.”

“No?” She asked politely, giving him his last out. Kellogg watched as her face changed, her expression quickly relaxing, but he didn’t register it for what it was before answering.

“I couldn’t take you there if I wanted to.” He replied, like he wasn’t admitting he was as clueless as she was.

In a quick flash of light, she jerked the trigger on Righteous, the abrupt movement pulling her shot to the left and striking Kellogg in the shoulder. The synths behind him lept into action, firing rapidly at her, but she easily dispensed the first one, Nick taking shots at the other one closest to her. It was only after the first synth dropped that she realized Kellogg had disappeared, the foggy movement to her left the only indication he was there.

She definitely hadn’t expected the motherfucker to pull a Stealth Boy out in a gun fight.

“Come out and face me, you spineless coward!” She seethed, turning to where she had last seen the ripple of light and firing rapidly. The droplets of blood were the only indication she had hit him. “Valentine! Sound off!”

“Still in it, doll!” Nick responded, his voice tense with exertion as the sound of a click echoed behind her. “Reloading!”

“Fuck.” She said, turning to cover him from two remaining synths, one disintegrating into metallic ash.

“Clear!” Nick answered, beginning to fire once more at the remaining synth, but before she could answer she felt a searing pain in her wrist, Righteous clattering out of her hand and onto the ground.

She shot her gaze up across the floor, spotted a puddle of blood suddenly indented by an invisible boot, and she lunged forward, tackling the figure to the ground. A large revolver flew behind her, miraculously sliding just outside either of their reach.

As she moved to strike the figure where she guess his abdomen might be with her elbow, she felt a pressure against the side of her hip, pulling at her holster, and immediately moved to clasp down on the hand, screaming at the radiating pain from her injured wrist. Reapplying the pressure with her left hand, she moved to swing her elbow down on where she guessed Kellogg’s arm might be.

“Damn I was just starting to like you, princess.” Kellogg taunted as she could hear him move, too quickly for her to react.

The blinding pain burned up her arm from the injured elbow, which had struck the ground instead of where the arm had been. However, she felt the pressure at her holster release and she clumsily drew the pistol with her left hand, thankful for not missing _that_ day of instruction back at the academy, and pointing in front of her. As if by miracle, the refraction shield dropped just in time and she could see Kellogg’s bloody, beaten face contorted in a wicked grin.

Two shots rang out from her side, the force of the pistol, unsupported by her right arm, causing her to jerk back more than she’d anticipated, but the mercenary had slumped over, no longer moving, his eyes glazing over in the all too familiar embrace of death.

Nora realized the fire fight behind her had stopped as she heard steps running up from behind her, but she didn’t move, still seated on the floor, her gaze locked with the now empty one in front of her.

“Nora.” Nick offered, kneeling next to her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. That bastard won’t be hurting anyone else now.”

The echoing in her ears was slowly dying down, but the silence didn’t quiet the thoughts running around her head, begging for answers. The pain in her wrist was growing, yet she couldn’t look away at the stilled form of the man who had so easily ripped her life to shreds, and for what? She still didn’t know.

She didn’t understand how such an evil person could look so sad and vulnerable in death, it wasn’t right. It wasn't _fair._ Most of all, it wasn't how she wanted to remember everything going down. She’d wanted to hurt Kellogg just as bad as he’d hurt her, but now all he got was peace and she got stuck with the memory of his miserable eyes mere moments before his death.

“Jesus, kid.” Nick muttered, taking notice of her bleeding wrist and moving to pull out a small medical kit, from where she had no idea. Nora barely noticed as he worked, applying gauze and sticking more than a couple needles into her arm, but she couldn’t focus on anything besides Kellogg's lifeless body in the corner.

Suddenly Nick knelt in front of her, blocking her view as she looked up to meet his eyes. Where earlier the yellow gaze had unnerved her, a strikingly robotic reminder of his synthetic nature, in that moment it seemed like a comforting light, guiding her back to safety. She pulled her arms around his shoulders, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed against his chest.

Nick gently patted her back, whispering “I know, doll. I know this isn’t what you expected, but look on the bright side. Shaun is alive and he is safe. We just got to get to him.”

Her breaths were coming in gasps as she forced herself to process the words of her old friend, finally nodding as she tried to slow her breathing. “I, I didn’t think, I thought...”

“I know... Revenge never feels as good as you think it will.” He reassured, gently rubbing her back in a near-paternal way. “Hell, kid you were never much of a hugger before, but I gotta say I don’t mind the change.”

The broken laugh escaped her throat, turning into a hysterical, pitiful sound that echoed in the entrance to the stairway. “I couldn’t go around hugging the beat cops or you wily detectives. Imagine the scandals.”

He offered her a small smile, moving to stand, arm around her waist to lift her along with him. “Good point. You woulda’ broken a dozen hearts or more if you did that.”

Despite the fact that they had never worked together directly, the rapport was a familiar comfort in such a foreign new world, something she could cling to that at least made sense to her.

“Thank you, Nick.” She blurted, eyebrows drawn together with worry. “I’m glad it was you with me for all of this. Nate... He would have been glad it was you.”

“Hey, chin up. I know the night just got darker, but it won't last forever.” He gently squeezed her shoulder, his expression turning serious again. “I think... I think I ought to check the body. See if there's any clues that might lead us to Shaun. Do you mind checking the other room for me?”

She nodded quickly, relieved to be as far from the crumpled form as possible. After checking the command room thoroughly, she found that there was nothing concrete to even indicate Kellogg had even been there, save for a few medical and food supplies. _Of course there's nothing. The Institute wouldn't be so sloppy._

The soft sounds of footsteps filled the room, and Nick reentered, a fabric bundle wrapped in his hand.At her raised eyebrow, he just held up his free hand. “You don’t want to know. If it’s useful, I’ll clue you in. Ready to get out of here?”

She nodded, fatigue aching down to her bones as she wondered, not for the first time since waking, if her bones had always hurt like that or if it was a fun new side-effect of the radioactive wasteland. The ache in her wrist was returning, much more severe than before, the effects of whatever chemical cocktail Valentine had dosed her rapidly with wearing off.

The pair was silent as they exited the command center, the faint light of dawn creeping over the horizon. Nora cradled her wrist directly against her chest, too exhausted to lift the wound above her head like so many first aid pamphlets had indicated. Not that she thought it would make a damn bit of difference.

A large shadow passed overheard, interrupting her train of though as her mouth fell open at the colossal blimp filling the early-morning sky.

‘People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel’

_Oh yeah nothing says we come in peace like a flagrant display of force._

Of all the inopportune times for them the show up, it would be right then. Nora knew it was just another steaming pile of crap she’d have to sort through, especially given that she knew beyond a doubt that Shaun was hidden somewhere deep inside the Institute.

Nick let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing.”

“Poe?” She asked, the poem triggering a faint memory of her high school English class. Nick nodded, eyes affixed on the airship for a moment longer before shooting her a cautious glance.

“Think you can make it to Diamond City?” Nick asked as he watch the sunbeams grow over the horizon as the ship moved slowly passed, painting the destitute skyline bright shades of pink and purple.

“Oh this old thing?” She raised her wrist in gesture, wincing in the process. “I think a band-aid and some Campbells will clear this right up.”

“Damn, that bullet took out a decent chunk of your wrist, but still left you with all your bad jokes. You should ask for a refund.” He quipped, moving toward the city, pistol still at the ready.

She snorted in response, the humor a welcome distraction from the near debilitating pain radiating up her arm. “Yeah, would not recommend the experience to a friend. Zero stars.”

Nick rolled his eyes at the comment, an amused smile at her lips as she watched the shining yellow orbits move in the exaggerated movement.

*

It had been almost eight hours since Nick skipped out to Goodneighbor, the promise to return by dinner long forgotten. Nora had tried to go back to bed, to catch up on the sleep she knew she was severely deficit in, but all she could think about was the detective’s words.

_What had he grabbed off of Kellogg? Why was it better I didn’t know what it was?_

She hissed in protest as she moved her bandaged wrist, trying to pull her boots on. Doctor Sun had told her the bullet shattered numerous bones in her wrist, but by morning the numerous stimpaks and splint should had done enough work that the bandages could be removed, if she followed his care instructions that was.

Fortunately for her, Doctor Sun had left hours ago, but not before making her promise to be a good patient for the night. She’d eagerly agreed, if nothing, to get the inquisitive man to stop pestering her with questions about pre-War medical procedures, as if she knew. Granted, she had indulged him a bit, recounting some of the more scandalous episodes of the overly-dramatic medical shows she could recall.

Nora thought back to the first time she’d taken a stimpak, back at Cambridge Police Status with Danse and Haylen. Despite it only being a few weeks ago, it felt like a different life time. So much had happened since then, and she felt the strange pang of loneliness at her separation from the squad.

She knew that she would be expected back soon, considering the new presence of the airship docked over Boston, but as much as she wanted to see them, MacCready’s warning about the Brotherhood had inevitably cast more than a few doubts, that only grew the more she ruminated on the matter.

‘They’re willing to help only so long as you’re useful.’

She didn’t want to believe that. Danse had shown her such compassion and trust. _Hell, he had damn-near vowed to help her find Shaun, hadn't he?_ Reading people was something she thought she was particularly good at, and she’d like to think she got a good read on the team back at Cambridge. Even Rhys, despite his cantankerous personality, seemed a decent enough guy.

Nora wondered how far they’d be willing to help her, remembering the teenager the Brotherhood had been more than happy to sacrifice for their ‘mission’. There were too many questions racing around her head that demanded answers, but the thought of confronting Danse, especially after he’d taken her in and showed her such kindness, sent a twist into her stomach.

_Fuck this. No use sitting here thinking about shit that doesn't matter._

She nearly passed out from pain as she shoved her other boots on, but nonetheless, moved to stand and collect her items. Righteous was in desperate need of work, having taken the brunt of the rounds that had been aimed at her wrist; plus, given her injury, her pistol was much more practical.

Nora had considered taking Kellogg’s pistol, but the thought of holding the very gun that had killed her husband sounded a bit too much like nightmare fuel for her to even look at it for longer than a glance. She already knew damn-well what it looked like, hell, she could probably name every ding and scratch on it from memory.

Pushing open the door to the clinic, Nora didn’t make it more than ten feet passed the threshold before she saw Piper, waiting at the counter expectantly with Takahashi as she emerged.

“I gotta say, Blue. I’m disappointed.” Pipe joked, falling in step behind her as she continued walking toward the gates. After everything she’d had to deal with today, the reporter’s probing questions were not high on her list of priorities. “You see, Nicky bet me 50 caps you’d slip out before midnight, and I said you’d at least wait until after.”

Nora checked her PipBoy, a small smirk creeping to her lips.

“You lost by a minute, Pipes.” She answered, the reporter groaning in response.

“You sure about heading out? That wrist still look, well, like shit.” The reporter pointed toward the extensive bruising along her wrist and hand as Nora flexed the fingers, only wincing a little bit at the movement. Granted, she knew the Med-X and extra stimpaks she’d swiped and injected from the clinic were helping subdue a lot of the pain, but it was something.

If Doctor Sun were to ask, she was prepared to say the splint came loose of it’s own accord, but fortunately the man wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Eh, I broke an elbow and a couple toes during PT back in the day, still had to keep showing up to training. Besides, I do best when I work through the pain.”

“You’re really killing me here.” Piper pulled out a small notebook from her pocket, scratching out something before shooting her a sheepish smirk.

“How many bets do you and Valentine have on me at the moment?” She demanded, shooting a cautious glance toward Diamond City’s gate behind them.

“Hmm...” The reporter made a show of stopping to tap her chin dramatically. “Five, not counting the ones I already lost.”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking, hoping to sneak past any of the mutant camps known for taking up shop just outside the city limits. As they pressed forward, Nora allowed her mind to wander, and for once the reporter kept any pressing questions to herself, content to look at the buildings and inspect the various types of graffiti.

By the time the pair had passed a particularly ugly wall for what Nora could swear with the third time, she stopped, flipping open her PipBoy and squinting at it hopelessly. Trying to navigate the Commonwealth was hard enough at night, and without MacCready’s secret shortcuts, it was down right impossible.

A thought crossed her mind as she noticed the sudden absence at Piper's side. “Hey, Piper. Where the fuck is my dog?”

The woman stopped, shooting her a shy glance. “Okay, so don’t be mad-”

“ _Piper_!” Nora snapped, spinning to face the woman. “That is the second time you’ve said that to me in the last few days. I swear to god if something-”

“He wouldn’t stay with me!” She objected, clearly rattled by the outburst. “Dogmeat ran after Mac as soon as he started to leave the city, I tried to catch up to him! Blue, I did. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t keep up. I figured, Mac had him. Or he went and found you and I, I’m sorry...”

Nora held the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply as she processed the words. “It’s fine... You’re right, Mac probably has him. Those two idiots are practically joined at the hip.”

Piper shot her a timid glance and Nora felt the guilt tearing away at her insides. Once again, she was lashing out at her friends for something that normally she wouldn’t be particularly bent out of shape about. Just as she was about to say something in the form of an apology, the roar of a supermutant drew their attention and Piper grabbed her hand, starting off in a run, and ducking behind various half destroyed structures.

“Where are you taking us?” Nora yelled, struggling to keep up with the younger woman as she shot a cautious glance behind her.

“Away from whoever the hell that is!” Piper shouted back, ducking behind a barrier, stopping barely long enough for either of them to catch their breath. “Follow me!”

Nora complied, following Piper into the brightly lit alleyway, running toward what she recognized as the old movie theater. She moved to say something, but the woman just yanked the door open and shoved her inside.

It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the interior of the theater, just in time to see half a dozen Raider’s staring at them, mouths agape. Fortunately, in the Raider’s drunken or chem-induced stupor, the sudden appearance of the two women inside the theater was enough of a shock to give the pair the seconds they needed to act. As soon as the women raised their pistols in defense, the Raiders began scrambling reaching for their own weapons.

“I thought you knew where we were going!” Nora shot two Raiders, both shots straying low due to having to handle the pistol in her non-dominant hand, but it seemed to do enough damage for Piper to finish them off.

“No, I said I was taking us away from the mutant chasing us down!” She objected, shooting another of the assailants who tried to sneak up on them from behind a corner in the gut three times. “They’re not supermutants, now are they Blue?”

“Fucking reporters. So goddamn literal.” She groaned, rolling her eyes as she aimed, shooting the sniper who had just moved above them, trying to get a sight on her friend from the upper seating area. The sound of the man's body hitting the floor was followed by two more in front of Piper. “Is that all of them?”

“Think so, Blue.” She answered, scanning the area before nodding toward the two figures on stage. “They haven’t shot us, and these days, that makes them our new best friends.”

As they approached, Nora saw a muscular, red-headed young woman, rocking back and forth on the ground, muttering to herself. There was a gentleman standing next to her, tall and irate looking, even despite his ghoulish complexion.

“Hey ladies, you think you’re done out there? We don't want any trouble...” The man spoke, scanning the bodies now laying still around the stage. “Well, not any more, at least. You gals are lucky it was a slow night tonight.”

*

Nick shot Nora a wary glance from across the Third Rail, slowly making his way toward where she was seated with Cait and Piper, a glass of something nameless and light brown in her hand.

She tossed the drink back, ignoring the expression of horror on the detective’s face as she stood to meet him, nodding toward the back room where she had met MacCready.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone toss back Brobov’s that quick before... and for good reason.” Nick teased, the grimace still etched on her face as she moved to sit on the couch.

“Yeah, I though it would be better than it was...” She admitted, shivering at the burn she was pretty sure had already eroded clear through her intestines. “Definitely no Bergstrom’s Pinot Noir.”

Nick let out a low chuckle, moving to light a cigarette as he studied her expression. “Sorry to jet off so quickly back in Diamond City. How you holding up?”

A long sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head, blinking back the tears that were prickling at her eyes once again. “Honestly. I feel like a mess. I don’t think I’ve gone more than a day without crying since I woke up. I’m taking everything out on my friends, and y’all are just trying to help. I am... so fucking angry, all the time. Hell, half the time I don’t even feel like any of this is real."

“When did the episodes start?” He asked bluntly, extending the pack of cigarettes toward her which she took eagerly.

“You mean the spacing out?” She moved to light to cigarette, not waiting for his answer. “I don’t know, I guess since I got out.”

“Hmm. I can’t pretend to understand the full gravity of what you’re experiencing, but you’re doing better than most, considering. You want my advice?” Nick cautioned, watching her take a long drag of the cigarette.

“Always, Valentine.” She answered, a nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach. The last thing she needed is to be having a mental break down in the middle of the fucking apocalypse.

“Keep doing what you’re doing, kid.” He shrugged, watching the burning ash as he flicked it into the ashtray. “Keep finding meaning, with the Minutemen, Piper, hell, anyone you can, and _keep going_.”

“The only way out is through.” She agreed, swaying slightly with the sounds of Magnolia’s ‘Train Train’.

“What’s with the stray?” The amusement in his tone was fond, and Nora felt herself relax. She had admittedly been nervous when she’d agreed to ‘take over’ Cait’s contract, but if anything, it seemed like Piper had taken to her rather quickly. “I can’t leave you alone for one night without you adopting a wayward wastelander, it seems.”

“She was in a rough place... Hell, Nick. She’s just a kid.” She answered, posture melting sheepishly, her eyes wide with sympathy.

“Doll, to me you’re all just a bunch of reckless toddlers running around with guns.” He smarted and she rolled her eyes in response, not bothering with a response. “So about why I headed here...”

“I was waiting for you to get to the point.” She turned her full attention toward him, any hint of emotion pulled from her face and locked away from view.

“”Kellogg... He had some sort of cybernetic implant in his head.” The detective stated, a deep frown etching into his weathered features.

“Like... robotics?” She ventured, hoping she didn’t sound as confused as she felt.

Nick nodded, turning toward Nora with his eyebrows drawn together. “When I first saw it, I wasn’t sure what to think. I brought it to Doctor Amari, over at the Memory Den. She thinks she might be able to decode it, get some sort of information from Kellogg, even now.”

The detective shifted, adjusting the seam of his trenchcoat. “I’m sensing a big ole ‘but’ to this, Nick.”

“You know, we would have made a hell of a team, back in the day.” He bit out a small laugh, nodding in thought. “It could take a few weeks, even then, there’s no way to just download the memories... She thinks you might have to experience his memories first hand.”

“How? What?” Nora demanded, panic filling her at the thought of being inside the memories of the man who killed her husband, of having to see that from Kellogg’s perspective. “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry, doll... You know we wouldn’t be having this conversation if there was any other way, right?” 

“I know, Nick... I know.” She swallowed, forcing herself back onto the uncomfortable couch once more, mind taking her into forbidden territory. “The night might be dark, but it won't last forever, right?”

“Right.” He agreed somberly, his face contorted in worry, lost in his own thoughts about everything that could possibly go wrong with the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Nora murdered Kellogg in cold blood. She's a mom, okay?


	19. Pistol Packin' Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Pistol packing mama  
> Lay that thing down  
> Before it goes off  
> And hurts somebody'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gap between the chapters is intentional to give space for the side fic I'm working on :)

It had been two agonizing weeks of waiting for Amari to decode the damn cybernetic implant Kellogg had inside his brain, and the doctor still maintained that there was no estimated time of when she would be finished. Nora had been climbing the walls, driving everyone around her half mad in the process.

Nick had just kept placating her, reassuring her that the good doctor was the very best when it came to working with how Institute-technology integration worked with human brains. Nora, for one, did not know that was a topic a single person could be proficient in. When she’d tried to press him for additional information, Nick denied withholding anything, but despite her continued attempts, the detective had not wavered in his obvious secrecy.

The first week she’d spent with Cait, picking up the odd jobs around Goodneighbor that no one was particularly keen on doing. They were all relatively banal, like going to pick up some canisters of less than reputable chemicals and kill any creatures that get in the way, or cleaning out the Triggermen in the warehouses.

Nora knew that the latter should have bothered her, they were people after all, but given Nick’s explanation, and her newfound understanding about how the despicable gang liked to operate, she had no qualms about taking out each and every one of the sadistic fuckers. Cait had been more than happy to go along with the plan, regardless.

It wasn’t until Hancock had told her about the Pickman Gallery’s job that her interest had been truly piqued, and rightfully so, as it turned out. Hell, even Cait had looked disgusted at first when they’d discovered exactly what Pickman was making his ‘artwork’ out of. Though, the woman later decided she was on board with the unusual medium after she saw some of the canvas pieces.

When Cait had suggested they take one of the pieces back for Mayor Hancock himself, Nora had shot her an appalled glance before bursting into laughter at the thought. Much to Cait’s chagrin, she vetoed that idea, given that they _were_ still staying in Goodneighbor under a substantial discount at the Rexford, courtesy of the Mayor himself.

The pair had made a near unstoppable duo, traveling between Diamond City and Goodneighbor regularly to meet up with Piper and fill her in on all their latest escapades. The frequent ‘Girls Nights’ between the trio of women had been a welcome comfort in between the grisly jobs she’d taken and the endless settlements Preston had asked her to keep an eye on in the area.

The female companionship was definitely something she had been seriously missing, so significantly different from traveling around with Nick or MacCready, and their friendship was a welcome breath of fresh air in comparison. It almost reminded her of the nights she'd get together with Alice, drinking wine and gossiping about the latest news in each of their lives.

When Cait had revealed to them that she’d been struggling with abusing Psycho, it was no question that they would help her through whatever she needed to get clean, even if part of her recovery meant staying in Diamond City with Piper for a while. Cait had admitted that she needed to be away from fighting and the drug scene in Goodneighbor for a while, which Nora understood, but the young woman’s presence was surely missed on the latest mission which let her to Bobbi-No-Nose.

Despite her sensation that the job had been fishy from the start, she'd been ingrained with too much pre-war decorum to press the matter without any hard evidence. It shouldn’t have been a surprise though, that without the surly red-head's paranoia to keep her asking questions, regardless of if they were 'rude', about their potential ‘employers’ that she’d found herself in a very bad position, accidentally breaking into the fortified storeroom of their very own Mayor Hancock and ending up on the wrong side of Fahrenheit’s gun. 

Unfortunately for Bobbi, Nora was nothing if not fiercely loyal to those who had her back and the poor woman had really thought she stood a chance against Nora and Fahrenheit's combined forces in that storeroom.

That was how Nora ended up with Goodneighbor’s very own Mayor Hancock trailing behind her as she trekked between settlements across he Commonwealth, taking any of the odd jobs that she could find, both of them eager to stay as busy as possible along the way. She wondered faintly if maybe both of them had been ‘comfortable for too long’ as Hancock had said, and whether their travels were more about atoning for said comfort, but she tried her best not to dig herself too deep down that desolate rabbit hole.

Granted, their most recent job had been more... unique than most. When Kent had asked her to dress up as the Silver Shroud and dispense justice unto the streets of the Commonwealth, she’d been way too easily persuaded into agreeing to the gig. There was something about Kent’s hopeful eyes that made it impossible to refuse him just about anything he could have possibly asked for. Part of her knew that she'd mainly accepted the job because the Silver Shroud had been Nate’s favorite superhero. He’d made her listen to the damn radio broadcasts enough times that, she was willing to admit, it made her feel nostalgic to hear them again, even if it was actually 210 years after they'd aired.

They had trekked all the way up to the National Guard Training Yard, in hopes of finding their last target, Shelly Tiller, but what they had found wasn’t one of the gangsters or murderers like the last few marks had been. She was just a girl, a terrified girl on the run from someone who had wished her harm for no good reason other than some unspoken personal vendetta.

“Ya did the right thing back there, sister.” Hancock stated as they strolled away from Shelly, who was quickly gathering her things to head up to Sanctuary with a caravan guard already arranged to escort her to the settlement once she made it to County Crossing.

Nora frowned, thinking about how close the young woman had been to being assassinated. “Yeah, I know. It’s just strange, all the others were actual scumbags... She was just-”

“A chick who found herself on someone’s bad side.” Hancock finished for her, pulling a tin of Mentats out of his coat and popping a few into his mouth. “I’ll ask around, see what sort of trouble she got herself into. Don’t worry too much about it, princess.”

Nora rolled her eyes at the nickname he’d insisted on gracing her with, the only explanation he’d been willing to offer was that she ‘looked like a magazine’, though she hadn't been particularly eager to discover what sort of magazines he'd be perusing. The pair waited an extra twenty minutes outside the training yard as Shelly made her way south, listening for any potential scuffle or shoot out, and relieved by the peaceful silence. She played with the radio stations on her PipBoy, relieved that ‘Sanctuary’, the frequency she and Preston used discuss the various settlements, had been notably quiet for the past day.

To be fair, she _had_ told Preston that if she had to go run down to Jamaica Plain one more time that week, she was overruling his vote and they were scrapping the whole settlement. It was already was too exposed as it was, with no actual structures or protective barriers in sight.

“Distress Signal?” Nora mumbled aloud, clicking the station over to a loud but infrequent beeping noise. “The fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Hancock slid over next to her, peering over the screen before smirking. “I think you got to move around to figure out where it’s coming from, genius.”

She shot him a brief, playful glare before following his instructions as the frequency began beeping slightly quicker. “Hancock, I could kiss you right now!”

“Damn, I thought I was the only one thinking about that.” He responded smoothly, to which she rolled her eyes.

“It’s an expression, John.” She let out a small, mischievous smirk. “How about we take this Shroud Costume and go have some fun rescuing the people of the Commonwealth?”

“You know, you really had my hopes up when you said having some fun with the costume...” At her glare, he shrugged flippantly, indicating he was just taunting her with the harmless flirtations. With a grumble, he moved to stand and shot a look up at the sky. “You mean, like right now, right?”

“No I mean June of next year,” The sarcastic reply was hollered over her shoulder as she headed toward the indicated direction, the Revere Satellite Array. “Yes, now. Let’s go. You wanted to see the sights.”

He languidly followed her, clearly in no rush to go running into whatever hopeless situation he was certain they’d find at the other end of the signal. They’d passed the area on their way up to the training yard, and other than a dozen grunting supermutants, there was no other indication of life. “I’m getting too old for this, you know.”

“I’m over 200 years old, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” She quipped, rolling her eyes at him as they crouched behind a particularly large, gnarled tree, barely big enough to conceal them both.

“You were asleep for that entire time, it doesn’t count.” He answered with a shrug.

“You’re lucky we're 20 feet away from a mutie camp.” She whispered, moving to peak her head around the branches.

Hancock looked at her incredulously. He knew that she’d already seen the yard was nothing but supermutants earlier, and he couldn’t understand why they were running into certain death based on an undoubtedly hopeless distress signal. “You got a weird definition of luck, sister.”

“I think we can slowly pick them off from here, leading them north from the array.” She muttered, scanning the gate around the satellites. “I have a few frag grenades, do you still have those molotovs?”

“Heh, of course. Always liked lighting shit on fire.” He admitted, moving to stand behind her, checking just over her shoulder.

“Why am I not the least bit surprised by that?” She shot him an amused glance, her lips pursed in thought. “Anyways, I was thinking I draw them out, start running and you hit them with the molotovs. When they turn back toward you, I’ll toss the frags and we can start picking off the survivors.”

“You’re crazier than I thought.” Hancock rebutted, a hint of caution in his joking tone.

Nora just shot him a full grin before running out toward the gate’s opening, waving her arms frantically and hollering as loud as possible. As expected, the supermutants flocked after her almost too easily, like giant, dumb moths to a flame.

“PUNY HUMAN. BROTHER MAKE FOOD."

Nora turned to caution a brief glance at the small congregation before taking off north, just fast enough that the mutants ambled after her, as though they thought they could catch up to her. The mutants were only a few paces back, and the sight sent a panic into Hancock’s chest as he hurriedly threw the first three molotov’s he’d had prepped into the raging crowd of green.

The glass breaking was drowned out by the sound of the mutants yelling, but there were still two of the bulking figures following quite close behind Nora, and he decided to begin to draw them south, back away from her to give her some much needed space. The maneuver worked as he threw two more molotov’s into the group that was now turning their attention on him.

“TINY HUMAN MAKE MAD. WILL EAT PUNY -”

The sound of rifle fire erupted, the supermutants dropping as quickly as he could count them and Nora was running back toward them, shooting a sudden glare back to the gates where another couple of mutants had wandered out. She turned and began heading back north, away from the array, the two green monstrosities chasing after her.

“BROTHER!”

Leveling his shotgun, Hancock was able to take out the first one, but the last one was gaining ground on her. As soon as Nora looked back and saw him, she took off at full speed, only turning to fire a few shots at the one behind her, who after about six rounds, finally collapsed.

As Hancock made his way back toward the entrance of the array, he watched as Nora stomped over to him, fury etched blatantly across her face. She pushed him back against the gate with a start, her hands bundled in the lapel of his coat.

“What the fuck John!” She demanded, applying just enough pressure against his chest to assure him that he could get out if he needed to, but also that she could stop him if she so deigned it necessary.

“Damn princess, you’re stronger than you look.” He joked, hoping it would assuage her anger but obviously failing. “Ah shit, what did I do?”

“I told you we were leading them north.” Her voice was clipped, hands releasing his coat as she stepped back away from him and pinched the bridge of her nose with an angry grunt. “Do you know _why_ I was leading the mutants that way, Hancock?”

He paused, trying to remember what was around them when realization struck him. “Hell... You were keeping them from the settlement. The one Shelly was headed down to.”

Nora pressed her lips together, trying her hardest not to throttle her new companion for his sheer disregard for the settlement only a few minutes south of them.

_He wasn’t trained to think like that, it’s not his fault._

“I... I know you were just trying to have my back with this.” She paused again, taking a full breath before continuing. “I’m sorry for throwing that at you back there. I was traveling with Mac and Cait for a while and we just had a system.”

“Understood. Honestly, I shoulda known.” He paused, scanning her face cautiously before continuing. “Or at the very least, listened to ya. I’ve been told I can be stubborn at times.”

Nora pursed her lips, a small smirk teasing at the edge of her mouth. “You’re pretty hard-headed and not just because of the ghoul thing.”

Hancock let out a small laugh; it wasn’t every day a smoothskin would start cracking ghoul jokes in a truly benevolent faction. “Yeah, yeah. But you agreed to drag me along knowing that already, doll.”

Nora didn’t answer, moving carefully through the satellites, as not to surprise any potential stragglers that had missed their initial assault. Her heart fell as the beeping began getting louder the deeper they got into the field.

As she climbed the stairs of the closest satellite, she tried to mentally prepare herself for what she was going to find. Supermutants weren’t exactly known for their decency or cleanliness and she was distraught that she might never to be able to identity the poor victim for their family, if they were to come looking for them.

A small gasp came from her throat as she saw the bloodied scribe’s uniform, the faint glint of the holotags barely perceptible underneath the mess of what used to be the poor soldier. Behind the leg of the table was a holotape, just within reaching distance.

Nora grabbed them both, blinking back her tears at the figure and almost felt relieved when she saw the name on the side of the tags.

‘Scribe Faris’

As glad as she was that the name on the sides hadn’t been Haylen's, she knew that he had been someone’s Haylen. Almost as soon as she began to play the tape, another wave of dread swept through her at the sight of a new ‘Distress Signal’ that hadn’t been there earlier.

_Maybe there was still hope for the rest of Faris' squad. This signal had to be new, right?_

She rushed back to Hancock, nearly colliding with him as she turned the corner.

“I got another one, we gotta go.” She ordered, not caring about the harshness in her tone as she took off. The steady sound of confidant steps behind her told her that, of course, Hancock was right behind her. She knew he wouldn’t leave her alone out here. “Thanks, for coming with me.”

“You lead I follow, boss.” He retorted, smirking at her annoyed glare at the word. “I’m just trying out all your popular nicknames, see which one I like the best.”

“If you call me ‘mama’ I might shoot you where you stand.” She warned, still half jogging toward where the signal seemed to be coming from, a decrepit house coming to view in the distance.

“Noted...General.”

“Whatever you say, Johnnie Boy.” The amused smile fell from her lips when they turned the corner to the house, a large crater littered with armored bodies the only indication that the remainder of the squad had been there. Suddenly all the easy jokes felt cruel and wrong coming from her mouth as she processed the massacre that looked to have happened long ago.

A sense of absolute anguish swept over her, and Nora could feel herself drop to her knees, still desperately trying to take in the scene, hoping for anything, any sign of life although she knew there were none. Despite herself, she crawled to each body, each long dead, and collected the chains from around their necks. She sat back down, pulling her hand toward her chest, heavy with both the literal and proverbial weight of the tags.

Shaking her head, Nora looked up at Hancock, a small tear spilling over her check as she slammed her eyes closed. “I don’t understand... The signal appeared out of no where, but... They’ve been dead for months...”

“Hey, Hey,” He reassured, moving to sit next to her and turning off the distress pulser flashing in the corner. The resulting silence was almost worse than the ticking of the distress signal’s empty promise. “You did your best here, Nora. There was just nothing you could do.”

Nora leaned her head against his shoulder as she felt her chest clench in agony. Hancock wrapped his arm around her upper arm, rubbing it gently.

“I’m just so fucking tired of being too late to save everyone.” She half whispered, almost afraid to say anything, but she continued. “I’m always too late. Nate, Shaun, everyone. I’m just so fucking tired, John.”

“I know, but you’re doing a whole lot of good out here. Doing shit people shoulda been doing a long time ago.” He reassured, resting his cheek against her head and she quickly tried to wipe her tears away. “Want to head back now?”

Nora shook her head, eyes focused on the chains in her hand “We have one last place to check... I know it’s probably useless, but -”

“Ya gotta try. I get it, it’s who you are.” He answered, pointing toward the holotags. “I wouldn’t have done that.”

“They need to get back to -”

“Nora?” The voice behind them startled them both into standing, Nora being the first to turn and draw her pistol before freezing.

“Danse?” She asked hopefully, the Power Armor helmet completely covered the Paladin’s face. Danse quickly removed his helmet, his eyes wide with surprised as he looked over Nora.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was faint, her eyes still red and damp from the threatening tears.

Danse paused, looking back toward Hancock who was standing behind her with a grimace, the ghoul's hand still teasing the blade at his waist with a sly smirk.

Shooting Hancock another brief, hesitant glance, Danse refocused on the woman standing in front of him with a gentle smile. “Initiate Hartt, you hadn’t checked in from your missions in over two weeks, I was, I mean, the Brotherhood, was beginning to suspect you had ran into some unsavory forces out here... I’m pleased to see you’re faring well.”

Nora shot an awkward glance to Hancock before looking back to Danse, the tension growing, and she decided a small pinch of humor _probably_ wouldn’t make anything worse. “Only Hancock here, he’s a menace, but he’s good in a fight, so I keep him around.”

“Oh princess, you’re too sweet to me.” Hancock flirted, laying the innuendo on extra thick for Danse’s benefit alone as he gently squeezed her shoulder. Nora rolled her eyes, turning back to Danse who had turned a pale pink shade in the dim light.

“Ignore him, he’s being... Well, himself.” Nora defended, watching as Danse shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to make sense of the scene he’d stumbled upon.

“Aw, don’t worry crew-cut, you’re looking pretty fine yourself tonight.” Hancock purred, winking at Danse for a good measure as Nora desperately fought the laugh that was fighting it’s way up her throat at the deep shade of crimson her sponsor had suddenly turned.

“I, uh,” Danse cleared his throat, ignoring Hancock completely before meeting her gaze. “I was following a distress signal... did you?”

Nora’s face fell instantly, shaking her head and opening her hand with the holotags wrapped around her fingers. Danse looked down at the chains, his own expression suddenly hardened under practiced stoicism.

“I’m so sorry, Paladin. It looks like we were too late.” She moved to squeeze the crook of his elbow, one of the only places not covered by metal plates, but ballistic weave instead.

“You... You collected their tags?” He asked, his eyes wide with shock as he looked up to meet her gaze. “Of course _you_ would.”

The softness in his voice wasn’t lost on her and she blushed slightly at the display of tenderness, but kept her hand gently against his inner arm. “Danse, there’s a bunker north of here. Scribe Faris’ holotape said there might be someone still up there.”

Danse offered a brief nod, swallowing hard as he looked over the bodies of his fallen brothers and sisters. “Are you headed up that way?”

Nora shot Hancock a questioning look and he nodded in response, watching the exchange with fervent intensity. “Of course Danse, I’m there.”

Danse nodded at that once more, gently touching the cold metal of his armored hand to her arm for a brief second before stepping forward, taking the holotags from her. Nora gave the general direction of where Faris had indicated the bunker was, falling back to allow Danse to take the lead. She knew he was already uneasy given the recent discovery of his deceased teammates and Hancock’s present was absolutely no help.

Mercifully, Hancock kept his mouth shut for the duration of the walk, only speaking to indicate potential hazards along the way.

It wasn’t long until the trio were outside Recon Bunker Theta, Hancock politely muttering something about keeping watch down the way. She certainly hadn't expected the display of consideration from the ghoul and watched him in surprise as he sauntered away. Hell, she would have been less surprised if Hancock had just gone and gutted Danse on principle; she wasn’t aware the ghoul could do polite niceties.

Once Hancock was far enough to be out of earshot, she turned to face Danse, his helmet now held gingerly in his hand.

“I appreciate you accompanying me this far out. There’s no telling what we might find in the bunker, so it’s best to be prepared for any possibility.” Danse rattled off cooly, his professionalism taking over.

“Be prepared for everything. Not vague at all, thanks.” She muttered, shooting Danse a tense smile as he stilled as her comment. “Sorry, being a smartass is kinda, uh, my nervous response for these situations.”

He frowned slightly, raising his eyebrow at the statement. “Was that, uh, common in your line of work? Before?”

“Yeah. Something about humor as a coping mechanism.” The answer was quick. Nora knew she sounded nervous, but something unspoken about the situation was putting her on edge.

“Understood.” He answered, pulling his helmet back on over them as they entered the Bunker.

Of all the possibilities of what they would find running through her head, a nervous, frail man pacing across the floor all while waving a laser rifle every which way, was not at the top of the list, to say the least.

“Freeze! One more step and I'll... I'll blow your damn head off! Who are you? Who sent you? How'd you get in here?” The man demanded, each question being asked before he could receive an answer.

From behind her, Nora heard Danse remove his helmet, lowering it from his face, the laser rifle still at a ready position, trained on the man. “Paladin Brandis, it’s me, Danse.”

The man froze, looking up to meet his gaze, a hint of recognition crossing his face before he turned and began muttering again. “No! No, no, no! I can't trust you! I can't trust you!”

“Brandis, take a deep breath, it’s okay.” Nora offered carefully, holstering her weapon and raising her arms in a display of benevolence. Danse shot her a surprised glance as Brandis tensed, his grip on the rifle the only thing about the man that appeared stable.“We’re with the Brotherhood of Steel. I’m Initiate Hartt, this is Paladin Danse. We found your squad's distress signals.”

Brandis was quiet, his eyes shooting nervously between the pair, pausing on Danse for a moment longer before looking away, resuming his pacing.

“We have their holotags, Paladis Brandis, sir.” Nora tried again, hoping that something would click in his mind. She nudged Danse with her elbow, who cautiously moved to offer the tags toward the disheveled man in front of him. Brandis took the tags quickly, his hands shaking as he felt the chains absentmindedly in his hand, his laser rifle moved to his side in dazed silence.

Nora took the moment to step closer, squeezing the man’s upper arm as she saw something near-imperceptible move in the corner of her vision. “I’m so sorry, Paladin. Your team is dead, but you’re safe now. We’ve come to bring you home.”

A sudden surge of adrenaline was pumping through her, and Brandis looked up to met her gaze, his eyes quickly turning sharp and aware, his arm relaxing as he looked at her sadly. “ I... I tried to go back for them, you know. There was nothing I could do, not alone. But... I had hoped...”

“You did the best you could with what you had.” She reassured, squeezing his arm once more before returning it to her side. Brandis nodded quietly, processing the news as carefully as he could. Nora squinted at the arm holding his laser rifle and tried to recall if he had just raised it toward her or not, adrenaline itching through her body.

“The Brotherhood needs you, Paladin. It's time you reported in.” Danse added, the older man looked down back at the holotags, shaking his head.

“No. There's no going back. Not for me. Not anymore.” The answer was firm, the hardened gaze meeting Danse’s, but it soften slightly as it met Nora’s sympathetic eyes, a fact which she immediately noticed.

“Paladin Brandis, your team fought until their very last breath to uphold the ideals of Brotherhood of Steel. You instilled that perseverance in them, taught them to be the most honorable they could be, even in death.” She paused, gauging if her words were registering or not. Upon seeing they had, she continued, her mind working in hyper-drive. “They're heroes, and their stories deserve to be heard, to be taught to the new initiates. _You_ are the last piece of them the Brotherhood has. _You_ are the only one left who can truly tell their stories.”

Brandis looked up at her once more, a steeled look of determination in his eyes as he turned to Danse. “You’re right, I need to do exactly what I taught them... Thank you. Where do I need to report in, Paladin?”

Nora watched as Danse’s expression relax, the movement barely noticeable, if not for his eyes. She watched them astutely as he talked to the older man, relaying the instructions on where to report back for clearance. Where his face hardly moved, she noticed his eyes revealed exactly as he was feeling in that moment.

Danse turned to face her and she swallowed uncomfortably at being caught staring at him and quickly looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you guys finish up here. Paladins. Ad Victoriam.” The words were confident as she mirrored the salute she vaguely remembered Haylen showing her many weeks prior.

The men both returned the salute and she moved to exit the bunker, trying not to think about the expression of tenderness she'd seen in Danse’s eyes when he saw that she’d remembered the Brotherhood salute. There was something affectionate about the gaze that made he ears feel as hot as smoldering coals. She was exceedingly grateful for the fresh air that awaited her outside the bunker, her pounding heart echoing in her ears.

As she replayed the events in her mind, she noticed that there was a moment where she was half certain Brandis was going to turn and shoot her, after she’d put her own pistol away and approached him. The slight twitch of his finger had gone unnoticed initially, but as she recounted the exchange she could swear she’d seen his arm tense as well, bringing up the rifle ever so slightly toward her. She hadn’t even noticed it in the moment.

_What good officer can't even tell when someone is pointing a gun at them? Stupid, reckless._

As she let out a long breath, looking up at the sky, she began to wonder, how close had Brandis really been to shooting her back there? She’d let herself get distracted, almost let her guard down and gotten shot.

_Stupid, stupid, girl._

Danse exited the bunker, a look of relief crossing his face as he saw her leaning against the side of the bunker.

“We need to discuss what happened in there, Initiate.” If she had not seen the flash behind his eyes, she would have thought Danse wanted to have any run of the mill after-action report, his tone remarkably even.

“Yes, sir.” She answered, figuring she ought to at least play the part of the 'dutiful soldier' before whatever lecture she was about to get.


	20. Granda Plays The Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'We found out  
> Now we know that grandma plays the numbers  
> We found out (yes we know)  
> We found out (bless her soul)'

Nora could feel Danse watching her like a hawk as they walked a short distance away from the bunker, far enough that Brandis wouldn’t be able to easily hear them if he ventured to the surface. She could practically feel the irritation rolling off the paladin in waves, unable to meet his glance as he stopped walking.

“Initiate Hartt.” Danse’s tone was terse and she kept her gaze fixed on the ground, not wanting to see the matching expression he was undoubtedly sporting.

“Sir.” She answered calmly, eager to just get the inevitable lecture about ‘irresponsibility’ and ‘recklessness’ out of the way.

“We need to discuss what happened back there with Brandis.” He answered firmly, taking a step closer but she kept her gaze fixed on the ground, squinting at a particularly uninteresting piece of gravel.

“Yes sir.” She could hear Danse sigh in frustration at her refusal to meet his gaze.

“Nora, please... Look at me.” The earnest tone caught her attention immediately and she raised her head to meet his gaze. She was struck by the profound worry in his eyes he wasn’t bothering to conceal. “What happened back there?”

“I... I was just trying to help.” Nora bit her bottom lip, worrying at it as she tried to keep her composure. Criticism from authority figures, those she respected at least, was always particularly hard for her to take.

“Why would you put yourself in such a vulnerable position?” Danse’s tone was firm but compassionate, the muscle in his jaw tensing as he spoke. “Brandis was highly escalated. As much respect as I may have had for him, he was clearly unstable.”

“I took a calculated risk. There were enough guns in the room. I thought that holstering my pistol was the quickest way to resolve the matter peacefully.” She shot a quick glance back to the bunker, before meeting Danse’s again. “Brandis needed to feel like someone was on his side in there.”

Danse pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths before responding. “Why are you so determined to operate with zero regard for your own safety? When you approached him... he almost-”

_Fuck, of course Danse had noticed that._

“I know, Danse. But he didn’t.” She reassured, offering a tense smile. “It’s fine now.”

“It is by no means ‘fine’.” He admonished, his eyebrows drawn together in anger, his compassionate tone replaced by irritation. “It was beyond reckless to put yourself in that position! It is by chance alone that Brandis didn’t panic and turn on you. Do you really not understand that?”

Nora felt a rush of anger at being called out for her ‘recklessness’. It seemed to be the word everyone was using to describe her actions as of late, and it was particularly hard to hear it from Danse.

“It was a mistake, Jesus, Danse!” She snapped, raising her arms in frustration with a small groan. “Why are you being so fucking hard on me about this?”

Danse reeled back as if she had struck him before softening his expression only slightly with a heavy sigh. “It’s been two weeks since anyone has heard anything from you. The only indication I had that you were even _alive_ was that Rhys attested the locations he’d requested you cleared out where handled, but that was over a week ago. I was- _We_ were under the impression that you had befallen... less than opportune circumstances... When Haylen caught the distress signal earlier tonight, I was under the impression that it might have been your doing.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Danse. I know I should’ve checked in...” She leaned back against the rocky wall behind her, closing her eyes with a frown as she processed what he had said. The squad had been so worried that Danse had trekked all the way out there from the police station just to try and find her.

“After you didn’t return to Cambridge as requested, it didn’t look optimistic that we would find you at all.” He emphasized, moving closer to her side. “Were you not able to pick up our broadcast?”

“What?” She cocked her head in confusion, opening her eyes to meet his.

“Haylen put out a message on AF95, requesting you return to the police station. It was shortly after the Prydwen arrived and docked over the airport.” He explained, watching her confused expression. “You really didn’t know?”

“I... I didn’t think the check that frequency after that first time I heard it.” She admitted, looking at the large airship docked over the airport, just visible over the horizon. “The Prydwen?”

“Yes, that’s the name of our airship. She's loaded with enough troops and supplies to mount a major offensive. If she's here, Elder Maxson's here. And that means we're going to war.” Danse said proudly as Nora’s stomach dropped at the words.

_War. Of course there’s going to be another war._

“Of course we are.” She muttered, forcing an uncomfortable smile to her face “Elder Maxson?”

“Maxson is the commander of this division of the Brotherhood of Steel. He's the model of what every Brotherhood soldier hopes to become. If we're going to war, I can promise you that he'll be leading the charge.” Danse paused, taking note of her uncomfortable expression. “This is a good thing, Nora.”

“Yeah, another war, right here in Boston.” She shook her head dejectedly, scanning the area behind Danse. “Sounds like nothing’s changed in two hundred years...”

“Listen, I understand that you did not join the Brotherhood for... the most traditional reasons, and expecting you to embrace the standards of the Brotherhood without having a history with us is unfair. But this is about stopping technology from falling into the wrong hands... About preventing that what happened to you from happening to anyone else.” Danse watched her expression, gauging if he crossed a line by bringing up what had happened in the Vault.

Nora looked up at Danse finally, swallowing hard before speaking. “I know you’re right... It’s just, things have been so crazy the last couple weeks. I know you guys are here for Institute, and I’m still on board with that. Hell, even more so now.”

“What do you mean?” At his question, she shot him a questioning glance before looking away. Noticing her discomfort, he quickly added, “I understand that you might want to maintain your privacy on the matter.”

“It’s not that... I want to tell you, but,” She shrugged, unsure how to explain what she wanted to say. “I don’t want to tell you as my superior officer Paladin Danse, I just want to tell you as Danse. My friend, or whatever.”

Nora could feel herself blush at the description and kicked herself for being so awkward. Besides, she still wasn’t sure how to ask him about what MacCready had said without outright offending him or insulting the Brotherhood in the process. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Danse’s confused expression as he nodded thoughtfully at her admittance.

“I believe I understand what you mean. I assure you, unless it is critical to the safety of the Brotherhood or it’s mission, nothing you tell me needs to be relayed to anyone else.”

“Are you saying this is... off the record?” She cautioned, his mention of the Brotherhood’s mention doing more to raise her suspicion and unease.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” He confirmed, shifting uncomfortably.

“What happened with the water purifier in the Capitol?” She inquired, the words quick as she tried to maintain the nerve to ask the question. When Danse looked at her with an expression of dread, Nora’s suspicions that MacCready had been telling her the truth were confirmed.

“How did you hear about that?” He asked carefully, a waver of uncertainty marking his normally collected voice.

“I have some contacts who were familiar with the Brotherhood back in the Capitol.” Nora could feel the anxiety growing in her chest at Danse’s own trepidation on the incident.

“I’m not surprised you might doubt the Brotherhood, given your knowledge of that particular operation.” Danse paused for a brief moment, considering how much to say regarding the topic, but continued. “That incident occurred during a very dark period in the Brotherhood’s history. I, for one, was never involved in the matter directly. I have only reviewed the reports from that day, but I assure you... that unfortunate situation is not representative of the Brotherhood’s ideals.”

“How can I trust that, Danse?” Her voice wavered slightly in her distress as her worried were validated by his own admittance. “Your superiors had no qualms about sending a terrified kid to his death to further their mission.”

“The leadership which authorized that course of action has long since been removed from the Brotherhood. Elder Maxson has expressed his disapproval of many of their actions, Project Purity included.” Nora watched Danse’s face, scanning for any indication that he was being less than truthful. Danse reassured his point, his eyes near- sympathetic as he returned her attention. “I have no intention of betraying your confidence, Nora. Please believe that.”

Nora could felt her resolve melting at the genuine reassurance, frowning as she acquiesced. “I do. I believe you... Danse, I-I found out where Shaun is.”

“I’m taking from your expression that it was not... good news?” He ventured, watching her as she swallowed heavily.

“Well, he’s alive, and I found the man who took him.” She let out a small, angry laugh as tears itched at the corners of her eyes. “I found the bastard who killed my husband... I finally found him.”

Danse watched her quietly, pain etched into her soft features, unsure what to say in the moment that could offer any semblance of compassion that wouldn’t come across as pity. Frowning, he looked at the ground, before asking the burning question. “This man, is he...?”

“Yeah, he’s dead. Really fucking dead.” She answered quickly, blinking her eyes to stop the tears from spilling over, forcing herself to focus on getting out the words she needed to say, needed Danse to understand. “I killed him myself. I thought it would make me feel better, but it just feels like shit.”

He nodded in thought, glancing back up toward her face rife with despair. “You did the right thing. There’s no telling how many more people he would have hurt, had he been allowed to live.”

“Danse... My son is inside the Institute.” She confessed weakly, having not been able to admit it to herself, much less out loud. Other than Nick, she hadn’t been able to tell anyone, as she didn’t want them to know how hopeless her chances of finding Shaun were. “They have him and... I have no idea how I’m supposed to get him back.”

Danse nodded, steeling his expression against the surge anger at the Institute growing rapidly in his chest. “We’re going to find your son, Nora. Listen to me. We’re going to find Shaun, and then we’ll make the Institute answer for what they’ve done. Okay?”

She closed her eyes, a few tears running down her cheek in the process as she focused on controlling her breathing, Danse’s presence the only thing keeping her grounded in the moment.

“Damn, did you guys forget all about me down there? I’m hurt, princess.” Hancock called as he approached, his eyes darting between Danse and Nora as he got closer and narrowing as he noticed her distress. “What the hell did you do to make my girl here cry? Do we have a problem?”

“John, relax-” She started as Hancock slid in the space between them, tilting his head as he looked up at Danse who was now bearing an expression of severe irritation.

“I assure you, ghoul, Initiate Hartt is in no danger here. I’d argue she’s in much safer company than I found her in." Danse gritted, looking down at the other man with vexation.

“Woah, big guy, huh? Like to see what you're capable of without all that power armor.” Hancock sneered, moving closer toward Danse. Before he could offer up a response, Nora grabbed Hancock’s shoulder, spinning him to face her.

“That’s enough, John.” She warned, her tone cold as she narrowed her eyes at him, before looking up toward Danse apologetically. “Sorry about that. Hancock is just being... protective.”

“I can’t say I’m particularly pleased about the sorts you tend to find yourself in the company of,” Danse started, shooting Hancock a scalding glare. “But if you assert that he’s no threat, I believe you.”

“Only a threat if you make me one, tin-can.” Hancock interjected with a smirk. “Ever since I stabbed ole Finn for her, I’ve taken a personal interest in keeping her breathin’.”

Danse ignored the implied threat, looking to meet Nora’s eyes. “Initiate Hartt, I do believe it’s time for us to head out. Paladin Brandis needs to be escorted to the airport and Elder Maxson should be expecting us soon aboard the Prydwen.”

Nora felt her face fall as she realized the situation she was in.

Of course Danse was expecting her to return with him to the airship to continue her Brotherhood duties, but she still had to update Kent on the Silver Shroud case. Plus, Preston needed her to swing by Starlight Drive-In. Not to mention that Doctor Amari should be finished with Kellogg’s implant soon.

“Danse... I wish I could. I have a couple other things I have to take care of first.” Her resolve almost faltered when she saw the brief hint of hurt cross his eyes. She quickly moved to squeeze his arm near his elbow. “I made a commitment to take care of a few things, and like I told you, my word is my bond. But I promise, I’ll try to get it wrapped up in a few days. I’ll meet you up there.”

Danse relaxed slightly at the assurance, but still was clearly bothered by the arrangement. “I can deliver Brandis to the airport and return in a few hours to accompany you with these commitments if you’d like?”

Nora shot Hancock a brief look, as she felt a pang go through her chest, her hand still on Danse’s elbow. She knew that the sight of Danse trapezing through Goodneighbor was sure to rouse conflict, and she couldn’t afford to risk undue attention at the Memory Den, putting her only clue toward where Shaun was in jeopardy.

She quickly shook her head in refusal. “As much as I’d appreciate that, I promised Hancock I would see our current case through with him. I’ll be back, I promise you that, Danse.”

Danse nodded, turning to face Hancock who was smiling smugly up at him. “If I discover that any harm has come to her, I will be holding you personally responsible.”

“Aw you flatter me, handsome.” Hancock retorted, preening as he stood up straighter. “Come on, sister. The Silver Shroud has business to attend to.”

“The Silver Shroud?” Danse asked, his composure momentarily dropped.

“Can’t you tell? I’m the Mistress of Mystery?” Hancock joked with a small chuckle as Nora rolled her eyes. “Knew I shoulda worn the costume.”

“It’s a long story.” She defended as she pulled Hancock away, offering a small wave back toward Danse. “See you soon, Paladin.”

Danse watched in shock as the pair disappeared over the horizon, shaking his head as he turned back to Recon Bunker Theta.

*

Nora was fighting the urge to scream as she dragged Hancock further away from the bunker, only letting go of him after they were out of eyesight and turning to shoot him a stern glare. Hancock was still wearing his cocky smile, pretending to look up at the sky innocently.

“Was that strictly necessary, Hancock?” She asked, her exasperation evident.

“What’s that, princess?” He answered lazily, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were intentionally antagonizing him. Why?” She took the pack of cigarettes from his hand, glaring at him.

Hancock shrugged, moving to grab the lighter from his coat pocket. “Don’t worry, your tin-man boyfriend will recover. I just wanted to mess with him a bit. Call it free entertainment.”

“What are you talking about?” She demanded, eventually placing the pack of cigarettes back into his outstretched hand, completely ignoring the desire to rebut the ‘boyfriend’ comment explicitly.

“Please, sister. You expect me to believe you’re running around with the Brotherhood because you like their ideals? That fact that you’re traveling with me disproves that.” Hancock shrugged, moving to light the cigarette.

“What do you mean traveling with you?” The words escaped moments before realization hit her and her eyes went wide. “They have issues with ghouls?”

Hancock let out a small laugh at that. “You’re kidding right? You heard how he spoke to me. Used the word ‘ghoul’ like it was an insult.”

Nora thought back to the exchange and frowned, recalling the way Danse had spit the word at Hancock. “Shit, I didn’t even hear it-”

“Course you didn’t.” He retorted, shooting her a sympathetic glance. “Listen, don’t go feeling bad about it, I’m used to it by now. Honestly, I’m just happy he didn’t ‘mistake’ me for a feral and shoot me on sight.”

She was shaking her head, shooting an irritated glance in the direction of the bunker. “That’s not even a little okay. Do people really do that?”

“Sister, not everyone is as open-minded as you. Especially their lot.” He waved his hand, as if dismissing the matter.

“No, that’s not acceptable. I’m so sorry John, I’ll talk to Danse about it.” As much as she knew people had a prejudice against ghouls, she was horrified to learn that Danse was included in that group.

“Don’t waste your breath, not on my account.” Hancock began walking back toward the direction of Goodneighbor, shooting her a quick glance as she followed after him.

“It’s about the principle of it.” She insisted, frowning as she thought about what Hancock had said, feeling the need to defend her alliance suddenly. “I... I’m working with them because they have a lot of resources. Resources I might need to even have a chance of finding my son.”

Hancock hummed at her answer, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement. “Whatever you say, princess. Let’s try to get back to Goodneighbor before dark, yeah? I don’t feel like fighting off any ferals tonight.”

*

Danse could feel himself fuming as he escorted Brandis to the Boston Airport, thinking back to the exchange between himself at the ghoul, Hancock. He was shocked that Nora had befriended such an unscrupulous individual who was obviously high out of his mind. For one thing, it was not only a serious safety concern to have someone at your back who was not in their right mind, but the chem-business was associated with a whole slew of additional dangers.

He thought back to the way Hancock had referred to Nora, calling her inappropriately-intimate nicknames like ‘princess’ and ‘my girl’, and his stomach felt suddenly hollow at the recollection. It was clear Hancock had been trying to convey to him that he was staking his claim with Nora, and he wondered if there was actually something more going on between the pair.

As much as he tried not to think about it, to rationalize that she had just escaped from the Vault a little over a six weeks ago, immediately after witnessing her husband’s brutal murder, and she wasn’t the sort to take up with someone new so quickly, Danse couldn’t stymie the anxious feeling in his gut at the thought.

He argued that he was just being cautious, not wanting his new initiate to get involved with the chem trade or whatever other dangerous activities the ghoul was undoubtedly wrapped up in.

The fact that during the course of their journey, Brandis hadn’t offered any sort of conversation didn’t do anything to distract him from his racing thoughts on the matter. Danse thought about how Brandis had tensed, pressing his weapon directly against Nora’s stomach as she moved to comfort him, before recognizing she was no threat to him.

As soon as he had saw that small movement, he had almost retaliated and his own firearm in line with Brandis’ head. He was shocked that Nora had given no reaction to the movement and briefly wondered if she had even realized it. She hadn’t given any indication that she felt the gun against her stomach, and he wondered if Hancock had been providing her chems during their travels.

It was clear the ghoul himself was a junkie from the rustle of Mentats as he walked and the smell of jet that clung to him like a heavy layer of smoke.

Danse wondered if Nora had turned to chems to cope with everything she’d gone through, his chest feeling suddenly tighter at the thought. She was clearly distraught after finding her husband’s killer and finding out the Institute had her son, combined with her obvious lack of self-preservation, it further emphasized that she had been struggling recently.

As they continued to trek toward the airport, Danse was near-certain that Hancock had been giving Nora chems of some sort, knowingly putting her at a significant risk during battle and their travels. He continued to grow angrier at the thought, wishing he’d insisted to accompany her where ever this ‘mission’ had intended to take the pair.

The Commonwealth was dangerous enough and being compromised with chem use only expounded that threat. He made a mental note to pick up some Addictol from Cade when he got on board, hoping the man wouldn’t ask him too many questions at the request.

He worried about what would happen if Nora didn’t return in a few days, thinking about all the potential hazards she was up against, especially if she was using. Elder Maxson, for one, would begin to question her absence.

When the outline of the airport came into view, Danse felt his pulse speed up. It had been far too long since he’d been aboard the Prydwen and the thought of being back on board with his fellow soldiers was finally doing enough to distract him from his concerns about Nora, even if only just.

“There she is, Brandis. Isn’t she beautiful?” He stated, eyes transfixed on the airship, impressively situated against the clear sky.

“She certainly is, Paladin.” He agreed, his expression painted wide with wonder. “I can’t thank you enough for finding me and bringing me back.”

“As much as I would like to take the credit for such an honor, it was all Initiate Hartt’s doing. She was the one who found the distress signals and collected their holotags and holotapes.” Danse answered confidently, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He thought of the pride he felt when Nora had shown him the collected tags, the final sign of respect for the families of the deceased.

“That’s impressive, for an initiate. She’s quite unusual, that one.” Brandis stated, turning to fix a studious stare on Danse. “Can’t say I’ve met anyone quiet so... Compassionate.”

Danse paused, scanning the older man’s face cautiously before offering a brief node. “She’s much more perceptive and sympathetic than most, that’s apparent.”

“Good.” Brandis said suddenly, meeting Danse’s gaze. “We need more of that in the Brotherhood. Someone to keep us in check. She’s a good find, you should be proud.”

Danse could feel a slight heat creeping up the back of his neck and he cleared his throat, relieved to see a vertibird docked at the airport. “Affirmative, Paladin. Elder Maxson will be waiting for us onboard. Are you prepared to recount the details or your mission, or would you prefer a few hours to collect your thoughts before reporting in?”

*

Elder Maxson turned with a flourish as Danse entered into his quarters, a small smile gracing the younger man’s lips. With a small movement of his hand, the Knights guarding him escorted themselves out of the room, closing the doors behind him, leaving them alone.

“Elder Maxson.” Danse stated, offering a quick salute which Maxson returned.

“Paladin Danse. It’s been too long, my friend.” Maxson walked over and patted him firmly on the back. “You had the council worried, disappearing for that long.”

“I assure you Arthur, had I been able, I would have requested back up long ago.” He answered, visibly more at peace in the presence of his old friend. “Our mission here was a long one and not without significant losses.”

“Oh I have no doubt. My deepest sympathies, Paladin. That being said, you managed well with limited resources.” Maxson shot a skeptical eyebrow up at him. “So, tell me about this new recruit of yours? Hartt, is it?”

“I apologize, did my report not reach you, sir?” Danse asked suddenly, worried that he would have to redo the whole thing, which had been quite extensive in it’s composition.

“No, no. It’s not that. I read the report, it all just seems... a bit unorthodox, which is not like you, Danse.” Maxson scanned his face carefully, looking for any hint of doubt. “Given that you are one of my most trusted officers, I decided to reserve judgment until speaking with you on the matter directly.”

“I can assure you, the details of my report are factual. I will also attest to my certainty that Initiate Hartt is fully on board with our mission here. She is absolutely dedicated to destroying the Institute, at any cost.” Danse assured, eager to convince his superior of Nora’s benefit to the Brotherhood. He did not want to consider the repercussions should Maxson not authorize her induction. “I recognize that we typically have a more extensive recruiting process, but please take it on my word that she would be an asset to our forces.”

“I’ve never heard you speak so well of an initiate before, Paladin. If I’m being frank, besides myself, I don’t believe you’ve ever expressed faith in anyone’s capabilities or potential.” Maxson offered a genuine smile, his face looking years younger with the quick twitch of his lips. The expression put Danse at ease and he was more than pleased to see Maxson so relaxed at the topic.

“I am aware of that, Arthur. I hope you can trust me when I give you my assurance that Initiate Hartt would be beneficial in our fight against the Institute.” Danse answered confidently, proud that Maxson seemed to approve of his decision.

“Alright, Paladin. Is there anything specific I need to know about her, prior to making my decision regarding your request?” The question almost made Danse’s blood run cold. It was exactly the conversation he’d been dreading, not wanting to obfuscate the truth from his superior. However, his promise to Nora was authentic, and he remembered her words back at Cambridge.

_My word is my bond_

Danse paused, thinking about the information she had divulged to him earlier that day before answering. “Initiate Hartt took it upon herself, during the course of another mission, of which I was accompanying her on, to follow one of our distress signals that she picked up. She was successful in locating Paladin Brandis’ lost squad, going so far as to collect the fallen soldier’s personal artifacts for return to their families without prompting. She also successfully located and convinced Brandis to return to the Brotherhood. He is on board as we speak, in Cade’s office receiving a full medical evaluation.”

Maxson watched him carefully, considering his story before smirking. “That is certainly impressive indeed. I’m sure Initiate Hartt will make a fine addition for us. Is she with you?”

“No sir.” Danse replied quickly, scrambling for any explanation better than ‘she abandoned me for a junkie-ghoul’ to give the Elder. He had already stretched the truth regarding the circumstances of how they had come upon the distress signal. The thought of outright lying to Maxson went against every one of his instincts, but if Nora didn’t return in the next few days, her potential with the Brotherhood would be squandered instantly. Without thinking, Danse suddenly spoke. “She’s on a recon mission, down near the Glowing Sea, to see if there was any viable tech in the area. It might be a bit before she is able to return to the Prydwen.”

Danse could feel his pulse echoing in his ears, shocked that he had so seamlessly lied straight to Maxson’s face, all to protect a woman he barely knew. It had almost felt like a reflex, and the fact that the man had apparently believed him only added to the feeling of panic eating in his stomach. He had never intentionally deceived a superior before, and the fact that it was Arthur of all people, nearly sent him darting away from the room.

Maxson just offered a quick nod. “That’s certainly a lot of faith to place in a recruit, sending her down there all by herself.”

“I have absolute faith in Initiate Hartt’s abilities.” Danse assured, causing Maxson to shoot him a skeptical glance. The pounding in his ears was only continuing to grow at the intensity of

Maxson’s watchful gaze.

“Very well. I’ll be thrilled to meet our new recruit when she returns. Good work, Danse.” He stated finally, moving to sit back down behind his desk. “Feel free to direct Brandis this way, should you see him in passing.”

“Yes sir.” Danse answered quickly, exiting the quarters, his heart pounding in his chest as he processed the enormity of what he’d just done. Despite the growing conflict in his head, he never once considered admitting his deception to Maxson and jeopardizing his own career with the Brotherhood anymore than he already had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! It seemed like the best place to cut it off and I've been sitting on it for a couple days trying to tweak a few lines.
> 
> Plus, the next part of our story is going to go in line with the next chapter title. I do need to return to giving some love to Preston and Rhys/Haylen.
> 
> I'm hoping 21 will be a good bit longer, so it'll be maybe Wednesday/Thursday?


	21. Butcher Pete (Pt 2.)

By the time Nora and Hancock had officially made it back to Goodneighbor, a very terrified but recently-rescued Kent in tow, it had been over a week since the incident outside Recon Bunker Theta.

She hadn’t intended to put off returning to Cambridge or boarding the Prydwen as scheduled, it was just that, as per usual, there was yet someone else who needed helping. It wasn’t like she could leave Kent to fend for himself against Sinjin, refusing to intervene was synonymous with pulling the trigger on the poor old-ghoul herself.

So of course, she was anxious to rescue Kent and get him back to Goodneighbor, then she reasoned, she could meet back up with Danse sooner rather than later. If she was being truthful, she’d admit that she missed the man’s quiet presence that had the unique ability to ground her back in reality. There weren’t many people in her life who had been able to tether her to reason when she got worked up, and almost any body who could was long dead by now.

_He would understand. It’s not like a Brotherhood soldier can turn their back on a citizen in need, right?_

She tried to rationalize that of course the delay would be authorized, given the circumstances. But the manner in which Danse had spoke to Hancock, indicating his clear disdain toward the man, and more than likely ghouls in general, was a constant nuisance in her mind. As much as she wanted to justify the comment, she couldn’t, and the topic was beginning to distress her more and more the longer she thought about it. She knew the matter wouldn’t get resolved, not without speaking to Danse directly.

After she crossed the threshold to Goodneighbor and ensured Kent was settled, she had every intention to grab a quick night of rest and return to Cambridge the next day.

That was, until she saw Nick and Amari gathered together inside the Memory Den, whispering eagerly around one of the terminals. As soon as she saw Nick’s face, she knew the good doctor had finally managed to decode the cybernetic implant, and all concerns about anything beyond finding her son were instantly forgotten.

“Wondered when you were coming back.” Nick drawled, shooting her a surprised expression which she just shrugged off. “Doc here’s had a break in the case... You ready to jump right in or do you need a bit?”

Nora could feel herself shake her head, her focus suddenly drawn to Amari’s worrisome expression. “I’m ready. No use waiting.”

“Hmm. Knew you’d say that.” Nick muttered, shooting Amari a quick, knowing glance. “Alright, doll. Let’s head to the back... there’ll be less prying eyes on us, if you get my drift.”

_Don’t want the Institute getting word someone was finally on to them._

Nick moved toward a hallway, Nora silently following behind him with wide eyes. Her mind was going a mile a minute, thinking about the unknown horrors she was bound to find inside a man like Kellogg’s head. She wondered how many people she’d see die by her own hand while being forced to experience the memories of the old mercenary. Despite her resignations, there was no way in hell she’d let it stop her. A few more nightmares was nothing compared to getting intel on where the Institute was keeping her son.

Just as she was registering that Hancock and Kent had disappeared somewhere in the building, she realized that she had entered a smaller room fitted with two of the metallic pods, identical to the ones that lined the entryway of the Memory Den.

_Memory loungers. That’s what Irma had called them._

They were near identical to the crypods she thought she had left for good back at the Vault, and the sight of them, combined with the realization that she would have to be locked inside of one, sent a wave of nausea through her body. She stopped suddenly, grabbing Nick’s arm as she watched Amari begin typing something into a terminal connected to the loungers.

“Nick...” She begged, turning her eyes to meet his yellow ones which were focused sympathetically on her horrified expression.

“Listen, kid. I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy for you here. But you know as well as I do, the Institute is a fickle beast. You could go a whole lifetime without another break this big.” He reassured, a sad smile on his lips. “Amari’s the only one in the Commonwealth who’s got the goods to deal with this level of technology.”

She nodded, shooting the doctor a hesitant glance before moving toward the lounger. “Doc, you better pull me out as soon as possible.”

“Why yes, of course.” Amari reassured. “This procedure is highly experimental; this has never been attempted before. I’ll pull you out at the first sign of distress.”

Nora could feel herself attempt a smile which quickly contorted into a grimace as she regarded the lounger. She swallowed down the panicked sound that had began encroaching up her throat; after waiting a few beats longer than she intended, she finally spoke, meeting the doctor’s concerned gaze.

“Ready to rock, Doc.” As much as she tried to offer a flippant response, her voice was feeble, betraying her pitiful attempt at confidence. The tone revealed everything she couldn’t quite voice, like how she was pretty damn certain neither she or Nick would make it out alive, or at least not without one of them turning into a vegetable.

*

Numb was the only word to describe what she was feeling, a profound lack of sensation, as she came to in the memory lounger. To learn that the man, who in a few short moments had destroyed her entire universe, had been a victim of the cruel reality of having lost his own child and wife to the same violence he freely imparted upon her family, it was simply too much for her to process.

Nora subconsciously knew her mind was protecting her, that she should feel something about having seen the proverbial ‘other side’ of the monster who shattered her life in a manner of seconds, but she didn’t feel the slightest semblance of sympathy.

If anything, she felt that it was even more reprehensible that Kellogg would do to her family what had been done to his own, and for what? For the money?

_Greed is the one constant in humanity. Morality can be pushed away for the promise of compensation, this isn’t new._

She was vaguely aware that Amari was speaking to her, but the image of Nate’s terrified eyes as she, or rather Kellogg, had pointed the gun at his head was burned into memory once more, only now from a different perspective. A perspective that she knew would haunt her both awake and asleep for the rest of her life.

Her mind was suddenly reeling, coming to terms with what she had just witnessed. “I saw Kellogg's life... The man who ruined my family... The man I killed...”

Amari froze, her hands hovered just above the keyboard to the terminal as she considered her response. “How does that... make you feel?”

“I’m glad I killed him. Seeing his reasons for doing what he did doesn’t absolve him of accountability.” Nora answered quickly, turning her steeled gaze up to the doctor, as if daring her to condemn her admittance. She was never one to mince words, and her feelings about the mercenary were no different.

“I... suppose I can't fault you for that.” The doctor answered carefully, considering her statement before continuing. “I don't know if there's any ’right’ way to feel here either. But, that’s besides the point. One of Kellogg’s memories mentioned this Institute scientist, a Virgil, I believe. If anyone has a hope of getting you into the Institute, he’s your best bet.”

“Thank you...” Nora nodded, offering a sad smile. “Nick?”

“I pulled Mr. Valentine out a few minutes before you, given his... unique resistance to exhaustion. He should be waiting for you upstairs.” Amari paused, shooting her a pitying glance which turned her stomach. “Mrs. Hart... That last memory, from the Vault? I, I'm so sorry we put you through that again.”

Nora formed her lips into a hard line, preventing her face from revealing the despair that was beginning to grow like wildfire deep inside her soul. “Thank you again, Doctor. Hopefully we can meet under... better circumstance in the future.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and quickly fled from the small space which had suddenly began to feel like it was closing in around her. As soon as she reentered the main room, she spotted Nick sitting on a faded red couch by the entrance, his eyebrows draw together in thought as he regarded the tattered rug beneath his feet.

“Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head.” Nick suddenly drawled, his voice raspier than it’s normal timbre, as he looked up to meet her eyes. Every ounce of blood in Nora’s body went cold at the tone, the instinct to run at the forefront of her mind.

“Nick?” She asked fearfully, taking a careful step back, her hand twitching ever-so-slightly toward her pistol. Nick’s face broke back into his typical expression, offering an apologetic glance in response.

“Bad joke? Sorry.” He asked tentatively, shrugging as he rose to stand. “What did you find inside that grizzled old mercenary’s head?”

“You absolute fucking asshole.” She cursed, anger replace by confusion as she processed the latter question. “You didn’t... You didn’t see?”

“No ma’am. I was stuck on the loading screen, so to say. Didn’t see a thing.” The detective answered, holding the door open for her to pass through.

Once outside, Nora flopped onto a nearby bench, burying her head into her hands as she began processing everything she’d been forced to enduring inside Kellogg’s mind. She heard Nick sit down next to her, wrapping a tentative arm around her shoulders in a near-paternal manner, as tears began to mount their defense at the corners of her eyes.

“That bad, huh?” Nick asked, gently scooting closer toward his old friend as she began quietly crying.

“I-I’m sorry... I keep crying... I just... I can’t stop crying.” She gasped, her body jerking with each sob that poured forth.

“Doll... You had a baby what? Only few months before you were put on ice? And after everything you went through? A few tears are expected here, kid. Frankly, I’d be more worried if you didn’t break down once in a while.” He reassured, patting her shoulder softly as she wept for several minutes. He waited patiently, not moving, until she slowly began composing herself from the outpouring of grief.

“I was a cop... I should... I should be better at keeping it in.” The words poured out of her like a guilty admission as she focused on stabilizing her breathing.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He answered firmly, pulling his arm back to his side. “You know as well as I do where ‘keeping it in’ leads.”

Nora paused, thinking about Sergeant Kevins only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah.” She croaked. “I do. But fuck, Nick. I don’t...I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Alright, lets start from the top. What’s the first thing you saw when you went under?”

*

The Minuteman statue was the first indication that she was almost to Sanctuary, a long shadow against the night sky, the faint moonlight illuminating it’s figure like a beacon of hope. Nora let out a breath of relief, a weight ever so slightly lifted from her shoulders at the sight. As much as it hurt seeing her old neighborhood in shambles, it was also one of the only places she felt safe anymore. Well, as safe as one could be in the wasteland that was.

Crossing the bridge to Sanctuary, she almost didn’t recognize the little subdivision given it's recent developments. Large guard towers and turrets had been placed at the entrance, flanked on either side by tall walls that extended several yards from the bridge.

It had been over a month since she had been home, ever since she and MacCready had ran off to find Duncan’s cure, and it was evident that Sturges had been hard at work putting her plans for the settlement into action.

“Nora?” The voice cut through the air suddenly, causing her to look up, scanning the guard towers in an attempt to pinpoint it’s source. At the heavy sound of approaching footsteps striking firmly against wood, she focused on the entrance of the guard closest to her just in time to see her young friend peak around the bottom.

“Mac!” She exclaimed, moving to pull the mercenary into a tight hug. “Where the hell have you been, kid?”

MacCready let out a soft laugh as he released her, shaking his head. “Me? Last time I saw you, you were heading in to take on Kellogg. Thought you’d be back sooner than this, though.”

“Ah shit. Sorry...” Shaking her head with a sigh, she met MacCready’s sympathetic gaze.

“If it weren’t for Piper I would’a thought for sure you didn’t make it out.” He nodded toward the common house as he started toward the building.

“Piper?” Her eyebrows came together at the name in question.

“Yeah, she came up here with her girl about a week ago. Some loud-mouthed broad, cursing about how you up an’ ran off without them.” As soon as they made it to the bench, MacCready flopped down, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair.

“Her girl? Must be Cait.” She cautioned with a small, smug smirk playing at the corner of mouth. It was true that Piper and Cait had been getting along pretty well last she’d seen them, but she hadn’t expect their relationship to develop quite so quickly. “Guess poor Danny got replaced huh?”

“I guess so, his loss. Poor guy probably couldn’t handle someone like Piper though.” MacCready offered another small laugh, shaking his head. “Hey... I heard you and this Cait gal took out those Gunners by Mass Pike. I just wanted to say thanks, again. I can’t tell you how... I’m just real thankful, boss.”

“Ah, shut up, Mac. I promised you I’d take care of them, didn’t I?” She shrugged, moving to take a seat next to him, leaning her head back to look up at the sky.

“Still. It means something, that’s all I’m saying.” He muttered, looking toward the entrance to the community bunk house behind them briefly.

“Yeah well, what sort of friend would I be if I let you face off against them right after you got Duncan back.” She straightened up excitedly, turning to look at MacCready’s peaceful expression. “Oh! Is he here?”

“Yeah, he’s inside with Dogmeat. That dog hasn’t left his side since they met... I told him all about you. The crazy woman who helped save him and he’s begging to met ya... Hell, if I’m being honest you saved me to. Saved me from drowning my sorrows in the bottle.” Nora could feel herself softening, the raw emotion MacCready was so willing to display pulling at her heart strings. It was the reason why she’d hired him after all, she saw that look of desolation that first night and wanted desperately to help him.

MacCready’s emotional confession was so starkly different from that angry young man she’d met back at the Third Rail. She realized as much as he still looked like that same person on the outside, his posture was now much more relaxed and he held his shoulders higher when he walked. Even his eyes looked more at ease, returning some of his stolen youth to his previously hardened expression.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” She said finally, breaking free from her thoughts. “Duncan is lucky to have you, and... you deserve good things, okay? So. I don’t know. Try not to be too hard on yourself. You did good.”

“Thanks...” He nodded quickly, shooting her a sheepish look. “Well, you know if you ever need a gun at your back I’m here for you.”

“I know. Thank you, Mac.” Nora cleared her throat, moving to stand. “I should find Sturges. I need to talk to him about something.”

“Everything okay? Did you find something out?” He asked, placing his cap back on his head as he rose in suit.

“Yeah, it’s... It’s a lead, maybe. Look, I don’t really -” Her words were cut short with a quick raise of MacCready’s hand.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. He should be with Preston, somewhere around the house with all the workbenches in front. At the end of the cul-de-sac. See you around, boss.” He answered, moving to head back toward the guard towers. “I gotta get back, can’t trust Emilio not to doze off if I’m gone too long, the git.”

MacCready offered a brisk wave before jogging off toward the entrance where he disappeared inside the farthest guard post. Nora trudged north through the neighborhood, eyes searching for the workbenches her friend had mentioned.

As she trekked on, she became increasingly aware of the numerous new developments at the settlement. New shacks had been built, including what she could only guess was a bar and a diner. It was clear Sturges was proceeding through her proposed improvements quicker than she’d anticipated. She also saw a couple new faces patrolling the neighborhood, dressed in pieced together Minuteman uniforms mirroring Preston’s own attire.

It was serendipitous, in a way, that a little town called Sanctuary with a barely-standing Minutemen statue marking it’s border would be the new hub of the revitalized Minutemen, all the way in the twenty-third century.

“General!” The familiar voice drew her attention, as Preston’s approaching figure came into view. “Welcome back. How are you?”

“I... I’m hanging in there Pres, how about you?” She wondered earnestly, scanning her friend’s demeanor.

“I’m good, actually. Honestly, things have been going pretty well around here. We have almost two dozen settlers now, about half of them are potential Minutemen recruits.” He gushed, a look of excitement clear in his eyes. Nora felt herself relax at the sight. It was the most alive the man had looked since meeting, the dark depression a mere shadow in the back of his eyes as it was replaced by a radical sense of hope.

“That’s great. Where are you planning on stationing them?” She asked, a genuine softness in her tone.

“What do you mean?” Preston queried, confused at the statement.

“Well, if the Minutemen are supposed to serve the Commonwealth ‘at a minute’s notice’, we need to have a few different bases, right?” She shot him a quick glance to make sure he was following her train of thought. “Like, before the war. We had different departments located in different neighborhoods, usually staffed based on call volume or proximity to ‘hotspots’ of activity. That way everyone has access to the resources or help they need.”

Preston nodded with a wide smile tearing across his formerly stoic face. “Makes sense. That’s why you’re in charge, General.”

She rolled her eyes at the title, but felt a sense of pride at his compliment, nonetheless. “First place we absolutely need to fortify? Jamaica Plains. I swear to god, Preston I’m sick of going down there.”

“Noted.” He hesitated briefly, studying her expression. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but...”

“But what the hell am I doing here?” She asked with a small laugh, letting out a bated breath. “I have a lead on someone who might have a way into the Institute... But they’re down somewhere in the Glowing Sea.”

Preston’s eyes went wide at the realization, his face resolving back into it’s typical serious expression. “Damn, that’s not someplace you want to be running around... Are you sure you have to go there?”

“Yeah... I was hoping Sturges had a chance to look at the Power Armor. I know it’s not in great condition-”

“You can’t be serious. Nora... you blew up the Fusion Core when taking out those Gunners. Even Sturges can’t undo that level of destruction.” He retorted, regarding his general with a look of amusement.

“Shit.” She contended, remembering the fiery blast that had taken out Winlock and Barnes’ crew, not without of course causing a huge chunk of freeway to crash below in the process. It was a miracle she managed to get the frame back to Sanctuary at all, quite frankly. “Finding another set is going to be hell.”

Preston raised his eyebrow in response, a coy sparkle in his eye. “What about the Brotherhood? You said they have all that fancy tech right?”

“That... That’s genius, Pres. I... I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” She let out a small laugh before wrinkling her nose as she remembered she was almost a week late from the agreed upon return date. “Except that I’m sort of AWOL at the moment.”

“What?!” He exclaimed with an almost-disappointed frown. “You can’t be serious.”

She winced slightly at his exasperation, shrugging apologetically. “It’s... A long story. It’s not important. I’m sure Danse will understand.”

_He has to understand, right?_

“Yeah, because the Brotherhood seems totally like an understanding bunch.” Preston replied sarcastically. “Listen, why don’t you get some rest and we can make our way to Cambridge in the morning?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” She agreed, the thought of sleeping in a semi-clean bed was a welcome thought, compared to the bedrolls laid out on uneven ground or the mattresses with many a questionable stain at the Rexford which she’d recently grown accustom. “Wake me up in a few hours, I guess.”

Preston watched as Nora made her way back toward her old home, both entertained and exhausted at his general’s unpredictable antics. He turned back to head into the house behind him, a relieved smile crossing his lips as he saw Sturges working on the circuit board at the kitchen table inside.

He took the seat across from him, grabbing the beer in front of the other man and taking a long swig. “Babe. The General just asked me if that Power Armor was salvageable.”

Sturges let out a small laugh, briefly meeting Preston’s affectionate gaze, before returning to the project in front of him. “You nominated her, love.”

*

The idea of waking up in the morning and heading off toward Cambridge immediately had been good, in theory. That was of course, not accounting for the fact that she had a dozen new recruits she had to meet with, an excited five year old to entertain, and numerous other decisions she had to make regarding the settlement before she could even consider leaving Sanctuary.

By the time she had managed to sneak away with Preston, it was well into the late afternoon. Out of everyone, Duncan MacCready had been the hardest one to shake as he had sneakily followed her every time she’d tried to slip off. She mused that the boy would take after his father, being as stealthy as he was. But as much as it warmed her to see the boy take to her so quickly, it also silently broke her heart every time she saw his round cheeks and goofy smile, thinking of what Shaun would be like at his age.

Not that she would ever get to know, given that he was double Duncan’s age, locked away out of reach inside the Institute. She wondered if he was surrounded by heartless people like Kellogg or that stoic bodyguard who had transported him back, or if anyone there had taken him under their wing. The thought of her son looking up toward someone else and thinking of them as his mother or father weighed on her chest, but she hoped someone loved him, at least, even if she didn't have the honor to mother him for the past decade.

Even as she had tried to not think about the years she lost with her son, the walk to Cambridge had offered her ample time, undistracted by Raiders or supermutants, to really think about everything she had seen in Kellogg’s memories. She was proud, at least, that she had managed not to break down and start weeping as she recalled the experience.

“Uh General, you there?” The PipBoy on her wrist crackled as the Cambridge skyline came into view. Nora let out an irritated grunt, flipping to the station quickly.

“Affirmative Delta. General here. Registering loud and clear. This is?” She answered, glaring at the device like it had personally offended her. Preston let out a small chuckle, taking note of her vexed expression.

“Is this how you look every time we call you over the radio?” He ventured, but the only response he received was an annoyed glance, confirming his suspicions.

“Affirmative, Zeta. Private Emilio Gonzales, ma’am. ” The voice confirmed quickly before continuing. “Getting word of Raider’s scouting out by County Crossing. What’s your position from the target?”

Before she could answer, Preston keyed up his radio to answer. “ Affirm Romeo. Colonel here, I can head out that way. The General is on assignment. Estimate two. Confirm?”

“Confirmed, Colonel.” The voice cut out, pausing for several moments. Nora shot her companion an amused look before the voice keyed back up. “Affirmative Zeta. En route.”

“New guy, huh?” She joked, relieved that she didn’t have to trek all the way out to another settlement, at least not yet.

“Hey, it’s your fault, making them remember all those different codes.” He retorted, raising his hands in feigned surrender.

“It’s not that hard!” She defended, shaking her head. “First contact is a question. All resulting ones are formatted with designation, identifier, statement, and a question. Final transmission is a confirmation, designation and statement.”

“Oh yeah, not complicated at all.” He answered sarcastically. “Pretty sure Sturges has that thing encrypted, but, you’re the boss.”

“Don’t you forget it.” She quipped, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ll probably have my radio off, up there, but I’ll check in when I can.”

He frowned briefly at the mention of her being off radio, but agreed.“Of course. And Nora?”

“Yeah?” She asked quietly.

“Good luck.” Preston offered confidently, giving a small wave as he turned and parted ways.

“Thanks. You too.” She returned the wave, watching only a moment before resuming her travel to the Cambridge Police Department.

*

Ever since the Prydwen had docked above Boston Airport, it had been near impossible to find a moment of privacy and the little touches they’d share in passing was driving them both mad.

Rhys had tried to find a moment alone with Haylen after hours, when almost the whole ship had gone to sleep, but that plan had quickly gone awry as they spotted Maxson pacing up and down the deck. The thought of getting caught in a compromising position but their Elder, of all people, had ruined the mood pretty quickly.

Never in his life, did Rhys think he would be so irritated at the site of his brothers and sisters in every corner of the Commonwealth. They’d even tried to sneak off to Diamond City at one point, before a couple eager young scribes asked if they could tag along. Haylen, of course, was instantly charmed with their enthusiasm and had been too polite to refuse them.

So, when Danse had ordered them both to be stationed at Cambridge for the next few nights, he accepted the assignment without so much as a grimace in response. Granted, his paladin had told him to take _a scribe_ to work on documenting the remaining tech down at the base, but he didn’t specifically state that the scribe couldn’t be Haylen. With only a few knights roaming around the near-empty station at that hour, it was all too easy for them to slip up to the roof unnoticed.

Almost as soon as he closed the door behind him, he felt Haylen press herself against him, pushing his back against the wall behind him. She moved to wrap her arms gently around Rhys’ neck as she shot him a look that could only be described as ‘bedroom eyes’. He moved his arm around her waist, pulling her closer still, closing the small gap that remained between them as he caught her mouth in an eager kiss.

Haylen moaned slightly at the movement, her own desire had been occupying her thoughts at even the most inappropriate times. She reciprocated the kiss hungrily, opening her mouth as Rhys kissed her deeper. He brought his free hand up to the back of her neck, slipping her hood back to reveal her striking ginger hair shimmering under the moonlight as he pulled away, a faint, affectionate smile on his lips.

“I always liked your hair.” He whispered, tugging at the band holding the ponytail in position. Haylen cupped his face, tracing the line of stubble along his cheek, her gaze fixed with his as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I always liked your eyes. You’re a bit of a hard ass, you know... except for your eyes.” She stated fondly, pulling Rhys back towards her, her lips working against his own as she moved her hand down to grasp his bicep.

He moved his hand to the back of her neck, holding her gently as their kisses grew more passionate, more needy. Haylen pressed her hips against him, and he was suddenly aware of exactly how needy he was feeling, the friction sending his mind reeling.

“You did that on purposed.” He gasped as she pulled away with a mischievous smirk. “You’re secretly trouble, you know...”

Haylen moved to gently kiss against his neck, eliciting a small moan from him as she sucked against a spot on his neck. “Oh, I’m definitely trouble big guy.”

Rhys moved his hand down, resting his hand over her hip, gripping it only momentarily before the sound of the door opening next to them drew both their attention toward the offending intruder.

Haylen jumped back instant, clearly much quicker to catch onto the situation than he was.

“Initiate Hart.” Haylen offered, clearing her throat as she felt her face flush, a nervous heat creeping up the back of her neck. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Nora’s eyes shot between the couple, a smug smile teasing at her mouth that she desperately tried to suppress. As much as she fought, a smile laugh escaped, turning Rhys a bright shade of red as his mind began to catch up to the realization that they’d been caught.

“I.. I was told to head up to the Prydwen...” She paused, debating antagonizing her embarrassed squad mates. “Is now a bad time?”

“Yes-” Rhys started, his tone expressing clear irritation.

“No!” Haylen interjected, shooting him a communicative glance before turning to look back at Nora with a shy smile. “I’d be happy to call you a Vertibird. Besides, the night shift guys always complain about not getting enough air time.”

“Thank you, Haylen.” She answered, watching Rhys shuffle awkwardly toward the stairs out of the corner of her eye. Once he disappeared back into the stairwell, she raised her eyebrow at Haylen in question. “Oh?”

“I - Uh, maybe can we not...” The scribe blurted, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. “It isn’t exactly-”

“My lips are sealed.” Nora reassured as Haylen moved toward the radio station, pulling the mic receiver from it’s base.


	22. Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Into each life some rain must fall  
> But too much is falling in mine  
> Into each heart some tears must fall  
> But some day the sun will shine'

It had been over a week since Danse had outright lied, not just to his superior officer, but Elder Maxson of all people. The deceit had slipped so easily from his lips, such a carefully constructed cover, that he almost didn’t realize it until after he spoke. The situation was impossible, torn between the organization which had given meaning to his life years before and the woman who had saved the lives of his entire team.

Had it not been for the Brotherhood of Steel, Danse was certain he and Cutler would have ended up on the wrong end of a brawl back in Rivet City. Despite the aircraft carrier’s claim of being the best protected city in the Capitol Wasteland, it wasn’t uncommon for people to disappear, often under the guise of ‘falling off’ the ship. It was usually at the hands of the overzealous guards or visiting raiders, should one have the misfortune of crossing either party.

He had served the Brotherhood for well over a decade, rarely so much as questioning his directives and certainly not outright deceiving a superior officer about anything meaningful. Sure there had been the times he and Cutler would sneak out of the bunks to meet up with the Lyon’s Pride crew, but that was back when they were both initiates and were easily swayed by the opportunity to be in the presence of the legendary group of soldiers. Cutler, had of course, been taken almost immediately by the late Sarah Lyons, and Danse had been more than happy to follow his dearest friend into whatever trouble they would find themselves.

Of course, there were also the times when his fellow soldiers would find their belongings ‘relocated’, most commonly to the Citadel's courtyard, and all would deny their involvement in the prank.

Danse was not an ignorant man, despite his lack of understanding about certain societal cues and expectations. He recognized that ever since meeting Nora, he had been more than willing to bend the rules of the Brotherhood to allow her entry, but that was vastly different from out right deception.

It was not lost on him that he found Nora to be an attractive woman, but he knew his behavior extended beyond mere lust or attraction. Such things were never driving forces for him before. He figured it was a combination of intrigue about a woman stolen two hundred years from her time and his profound gratitude for her sacrifices.

Curiosity was a natural thing, he reasoned, and if anyone was perplexing, it was Nora. It was prudent to investigate the person who had deemed his life so worthy of saving, only hours after meeting him. Danse knew he had not done anything to warrant her trust at that time, despite the faith he so rapidly dispensed to her. Nonetheless, she had seen something in him, even in spite of their rocky introductions, and was more than willing to risk her life to protect his own.

As the days continued to pass with still no sight of his initiate, his worry only escalated as Maxson shooting him a curious expression every time he passed, Danse had finally broken down and sent Rhys to Cambridge in the hope that Nora would amble through the station sooner rather than later.

He was plagued by horrible thoughts about what dangers she could have befallen traveling through the wasteland, especially if she was traveling with that ghoul, Hancock. The exchange with the man had played in his head every night since then, from the smug way in which he had regarded Danse and his near possessive behavior toward Nora.

The thought of Nora in the company with a junkie degenerate like Hancock bred a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. She was bright spot in the world, offering compassion, honor, and selflessness to those in need. Danse was driven half mad in her absence, only imagining her stumbling into the worst case scenarios. He wondered if Hancock had been feeding her chems, like he originally thought, or if she was more likely to become a victim of the other dangers roaming the wasteland.

The night had turned dark, with a majority of the ship's residents having long since retired to their chambers as Danse paced the deck of the Prydwen, lost in thought. The whir of a Vertibird approaching drew his attention and he looked up quickly, perplexed at the sound. It was uncommon for the pilots to have many details at such an hour, though it was not unheard of, should a squad be delayed in returning from an op.

As the aircraft drew closer he caught sight of a bright streak of blue, a figure briefly peaking around the opening of the approaching aircraft before disappearing back inside. The flash of blue was indisputable and incomparable. The only things in the wasteland that shade of blue anymore were Vault suits, and only the ones that were fairly new retained such vibrancy.

The Vertibird docked and he rushed closer, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the back of the figure in blue with ‘111’ written across the back in large gold letters.

“Jesus fuck, kid. Where did you get your pilot’s license?” Nora snapped, gripping the back wall as the aircraft settled finally, affixing itself to the deck. Upon hearing her sharp, irritated tone, Danse succinctly wondered if there was a more beautiful sound in all the world.

Lancer-Sergeant Wilson shot Danse an amused glance as Nora righted herself, rushing off the Vertibird and running directly into his chest. He quickly caught her as she stumbled back, much too close the the edge of the deck than either of them were comfortable with.

“Initiate Hartt.” He addressed her firmly, hoping she would recognize the professionalism in his tone, given their presence aboard the Prydwen. She looked up to meet his gaze, her wide eyes regarding him with a tender expression.

“Paladin Danse.” She answered, a large, genuine smile breaking across her face. “I supposed I owe you a debt of gratitude. It would be quite a shame to topple off the edge of the Prydwen, particularly so soon after my arrival.”

Danse could feel his own mouth turn into a small smile. “Indeed it would.”

Behind them, Lancer-Sergeant Wilson cleared his throat, his sharp gaze focused on Danse’s hands which were still holding Nora’s upper arms. The paladin immediately released her, pulling his arms back and composing his expression. Danse offered the pilot a brief nod in thanks.

“Perhaps we should get inside.” He added quickly, nodding his head in direction of the door to the foredeck.

“Yeah.” She answered weakly as she stared down at the airport below, her face flushing to an alarming shade of pallor in the process.

Danse led her inside, directing her to the abandoned mess hall. He carefully checked the surrounding rooms before pointing toward a space at the counter, which she quickly took.

“Where have you been?” He asked firmly, fixing a stern gaze as she rolled her eyes in response. The action made his neck warm slightly in an unfamiliar combination of irritation and endearment that only she would have been able to inspire, but he continued. “You were due back days ago. Elder Maxson has taken a personal interest in your development.”

She looked up at the mention of Maxson with a frown. “Shit, Danse... I’m sorry. I tried to get back sooner, it’s just. Time got away from me.”

Danse tried to read her expression. Outwardly she portrayed a sense of confidence, but he caught the tired look in her eyes as she returned his analytical gaze. He wondered exactly what sort of trouble she’d found herself in since their parting. Almost as if sensing his thoughts, she looked around quickly, her gaze checking for anyone who might be listening, before speaking.

“Is there somewhere we can talk... privately?” She asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Danse paused, quickly thinking about which areas might be unoccupied at that time of night.

“Possibly... But it is crucial to use discretion.” He cautioned, moving to stand as she followed suit. Danse knew that there would be implications if someone saw Nora sneaking into his quarters, especially at such an hour, but save for the forecastle, there was no where else ‘private’, and given her earlier unrest looking over the edge of the deck, he found it highly unlikely she’d elect to go there. “It would be unwise to start your time aboard the Prydwen with your fellow soldiers entertaining the wrong impression about the circumstances surrounding your induction.”

He quickly ushered her into the small room, trying not to ruminate for too long about the activities his warning had implied they would partake in and scanned the hallway before closing the door behind them.

Nora looked around the room, quickly taking note of it's setup, her eyes settling onto a full bookcase immediately adjacent to the desk with a small smirk. Danse cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable as she analyzed what had become his new home.

“Please, feel free to be seated... anywhere. I know there’s quite a multitude of seats to choose from.” He stated sarcastically, relieved at the gentle smile she shot him as she moved to sit on top of his desk.

“There’s a sense of humor under all that Power Armor after all, huh?” She joked, as he moved to sit on the bed directly across from her, crossing his arms defensively

“Possibly. Call it a personal weakness.” He answered playfully.

“Mmm. I like it. Makes you even more interesting.” She let out a small laugh, recognizing her words far too late as she spotted Danse blush and looked sheepishly at the floor. Clearing her throat, she changed topic. “Danse... Am I already in deep shit with Maxson? I really didn’t mean to take so long, I -”

“No.” He responded firmly, her distress inspiring his own as he watched her nervous, contorted expression. “Maxson was advised that you were conducting a reconnaissance mission near the Glowing Sea.”

“ _Danse_.” Her eyes went wide at the realization, her tone was tender as she met his gaze. “You didn’t...”

“I... May have stretched the truth. To be fair, I did not articulate how ‘near’ the Glowing Sea you would be traveling.” He thought about her comment toward his ‘humor’ earlier and tried to lighten the tension. “I don't suppose you happen to head out that way during your travels, did you? It would make the situation marginally less complicated for us here.”

“Not yet, no...” She let out a small laugh, frowning as she considered his words. “Why-why would you tell Maxson I went down there?”

“I... suppose I knew it would be plausible that upon your return, you would have limited information about the region.” The reply was soft, one might dare say vulnerable, as Danse fervently regarded the knuckles of his clenched hand.

“You knew it wouldn’t raise suspicion if I came back empty handed...” She stated, catching the faint twitch in Danse’s jaw at the statement, indicating that she was correct in her analysis. “I... I’m so sorry I put you in that position.”

Danse looked up, shaking his head. “You didn’t put me in any position, Nora. I made the decision of my accord... I meant what I told you. The Brotherhood has resources that can help with the search for your son. I promised you that we’d help you find Shaun.”

Nora felt herself flinch at the name, tears welling up as she slammed her eyes closed. She had been trying not to think longer than absolutely necessary about the fact that her son was trapped inside the Institute, so far out of her conceivable reach.

The world around her began to disappear into nothingness as her panic expounded, her mind instead replaying all the scenes she'd been forced to witness as she waded through Kellogg's memories. Her Shaun, now ten years old, being zapped away into a blue flash of light, disappearing before her eyes as she was motionless to help. As much as she tried to ground herself and steady her breathing, she felt like she was slipping further and further away from reality as her body began to shake.

She felt a warm pressure against her shoulders as she began hyperventilating, followed by a strong, rough hand moving to hold the side of her face as she gasped for breath.

“Initiate! You’re on board the Prydwen and you’re in no danger. Take a deep breath... Nora? Nora, you’re okay. You’re safe, I’m right here.” The voice was reassuring, despite the hint of worry that cracked along it’s steady tone.

She forced her eyes open, meeting Danse’s wide brown ones. He quickly released his hand from the side of her face, dropping his grasp to her shoulders in a steadying gesture. With a weighted sigh, she placed her head against his chest, forcing herself to focus on her breathing.

Almost instinctively, Danse gently move to gently wrap his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she took shaky breaths. He felt a sudden, protective instinct swell in his chest at the sight of her distress. Seeing Nora in such a vulnerable state was a stark contrast from the confident, near flippant attitude she’d had upon their initial introduction, back when she was so determined not to trust him.

“Danse... I’m sorry. I...” She shook her head, relaxing against him for a few moments before pulling back. He quickly dropped his arms, shooting her a concerned glance as he leaned against the desk next to her. “You must think I’ve officially lost it or something.. I’m sorry.”

“I believe that you’re someone who is managing to survive in an impossible situation, one that I can’t begin to imagine.” He stated carefully, hesitant to say the wrong thing and upset her further. “I would reason that some level of distress is expected, considering your circumstances... I’m aware that I’m not abridged of all the details, but should you wish to discuss it, I hope you trust that I’d be supportive of you.”

“I know, Danse. I do, it’s just hard to say it out loud.” Nora sighed, rubbing her eyes as if trying to erase the evidence of her breakdown. “My son is in the Institute, but... He’s not a baby anymore.” She let out a choked sob that she quickly swallowed back down as she pressed her lips together. It was several pregnant moments before she continued. “He’s ten years old now... They put me back on ice for a fucking decade after taking him, and... and my best chance to find him, it’s... It’ doesn’t matter, it’s just impossible, is what it is. I’ve missed so much time with him. The Institute... I can’t even begin to anticipate what sort of resources they have at their disposal.”

“The Institute may possess advanced technology, but the Brotherhood is the only organization that near rivals their capability.” His voice was firm, almost harsh, but at the sight of her desolate expression, Danse softened his tone before continuing. “What I’m trying to say here is, it’s not impossible. We can get him back, Nora.”

She sniffed, looking at the wall behind him, a far off look in her eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate everything... I’m sure this isn’t what you expected when you recruited me, huh?”

“You are definitely very different than I anticipated upon our initial introduction, but I would dare say that’s a good thing.” He admitted, as let out a small laugh that surprising them both. 

Nora nodded, a sad smile toying at her lips. “So this Elder Maxson? When can I meet this _legendary_ hero of the Brotherhood.”

“Nora...” Danse warned, all indication of humor wiped from his face. “I must caution you to practice better decorum than... that which you and I practice in our conversations, when speaking with the Elder.”

“Please. I’ve been kissing up to smug politician’s since before you were born.” She waved her hand, moving to stand. “Is he up at this hour, you think? It’s... a little after midnight.”

“Arthur will undoubtedly still be awake at this hour.” Danse admitted, watching as Nora composed her face. Beside the slight redness of her eyes, any indication of distress disappeared, her expression re-composed into the confidant mask he remembered from weeks before. “I did not divulge to him any of your history, save for you being from a Vault and the nature of your missions back at Cambridge.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, focused intently on the task before her. “I appreciate it. I will let Maxson know that the expedition to the Glowing Sea had been derailed a few days into the journey, due to excessive sightings of hostiles that overwhelmed my capabilities at the given time.”

Danse nodded, impressed with her thorough analysis over the fake mission. It was crafted well enough that it was plausible, but not over-encumbered with details to where it would seem fabricated. “Understood, Initiate. I’ll accompany you toward the Briefing Room. That’ll be where we are most likely to find the Elder.”

She followed him out the door and down the hallway, careful to scan every possible detail of the ship’s expansive interior. The ship was a behemoth of a vessel, undoubtedly with numerous turns and hallways for her to get lost in. She was determined to memorize it’s structure, hoping not to draw attention to her naivety of the airship by getting lost within her first week.

As Danse had anticipated, Elder Maxson had his back toward them as they entered the briefing room, leaning over a large desk as he marked something down on a map spread across it's wooden surface.

“Elder Maxson.” Danse stated, his voice notably deeper than it had been previously. Nora tried not to notice the air of authority the tone held, as she watched Maxson turn toward them.

It was clear that the Elder was a confidant man. He walked with an air of near-arrogance, shoulders held high as he regarded them in an almost dismissive gaze. She had stared down police chiefs and drug kingpins alike, both which moved with less gravitas than the man before her. In direct contrast to his assured movements was the man’s apparent youth; Nora guessed that Maxson couldn’t be over 23 years old, if he was even that.

“Paladin Danse.” The man answered, rounding and standing directly in front of Danse. “It is quite an unexpected visit at such an hour, Paladin.”

“Yes sir. I am cognizant of the advanced hour. However, you had advised me to bring Initiate Hartt to you as soon as she arrived aboard.” Danse answered plainly, his expression stripped of any sense of personality.

It was an expression she was familiar with from her time on the force, but seeing Danse devoid of any hint of emotion felt inherently wrong; even his eyes betrayed none of what he was feeling. It was in direct contrast from the tenderness she had seen earlier, and she felt herself yearning to see the softened expression again.

She was suddenly aware of Maxson staring at her from the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Despite the movement, she didn’t feel the expression was at all genuine.

“Initiate Hartt, is it?” Maxson asked slowly, as Nora forced herself to mimic the stoic, militaristic expression.

“Affirmative, sir.” She answered confidently, her cold gaze matching the Elder’s own.

“And here I thought you’d gone and run off from the Brotherhood, even before your official induction.” The Elder offered, the harsh distaste blatant in his tone. From the corner of her eye, she saw the muscle at the back of Danse’s jaw tense for a brief second at the implication of her betrayal before it was gone.

“Negative, sir.” She replied, not breaking the stare. “I ran into a bit of trouble down south. The mission was cut short due to extensive sightings of hostile forces in the area. The volume of hostiles undoubtedly overwhelmed my abilities, given my current resources.”

“Oh?” Maxson inquired as he stepped toward her, turning to square himself even with her stance as she spoke.

“I spotted several Deathclaws in the area, and given the high levels of radiation that no amount of medication could truly mitigate, I made the determination to turn back. That was not even considering the other mutated creatures undoubtedly residing there.” Maxson watched her speak, and she noticed a brief relaxation in his stance that was almost imperceptible. She immediately realized that he believed her story, and seeing her opportunity, quickly continued. “I did not have the sufficient armor or weaponry to address and annihilate the hostiles, so I made the decision to return to base. I knew the Prydwen had docked and would be more than capable of outfitting me with adequate resources to continue my mission, sir.”

Maxson paused for a long, tense moment, scanning for any weakness or break in her expression. Upon finding none, he finally answered. “Very well. Paladin Danse has apprised me of your work thus far in the field. Finding Brandis’ team and convincing him to return to the Brotherhood showed great valor, notwithstanding your previous sacrifices and work. Due to your continued success with the Brotherhood, I believe you have additional potential. It is at this time that I would like to grant you the rank of Knight.”

“I appreciate the opportunity, sir.” She replied eagerly, relieved she had successfully avoided suspicion, offering Elder Maxson an enthusiastic salute. If anyone knew how to feed an ego, it was her. “I won’t let you down. Ad Victorium, Elder.”

“Ad Victorium, Knight.” Maxson answered, a sly smile crossing his face. Despite herself, Nora felt uneasy and found her stomach churning at the sight of it. “Please, report to Knight-Captain Cade for your medical evaluation. If he’s not awake, please wait for him in the MedBay. I’d like to speak to Paladin Danse... Alone.”

“Yes sir, understood.” She offered, despite the sense of dread growing in her stomach as she exited the room. There was no way in hell she was finding her way to the ‘MedBay’ alone. She considered waiting outside the conference room before she caught sight of Haylen sneaking back on board, a content Rhys following at her heels.

“Scribe Haylen” She gasped as she rushed toward where the couple had entered, relieved to see the woman's familiar face.

“Initiate Hartt...” Rhys retorted defensively, the hint of contentment vacating his features immediately as he crossed his arms.

“Actually,” Nora paused, a confident smile breaking out over her features. The thought of Rhys no longer out-ranking her but being her equal was too good not to taunt him about. “It’s Knight Hartt. Just had the meeting with Elder Maxson and everything.”

Rhys shot her a scowl and walked off quickly, leaving the women alone. Haylen was trying to bite back a smile as Rhys trekked down the ladder, before looking back at Nora happily.

“Congratulations, Knight.” She offered, bearing a joyful smile that reached her eyes. “It might not seem like much, but the fact that Rhys walked away at all instead of making a smart comment is nothing short of a miracle.”

“I guess he found what he needed to... unwind.” Nora quipped, raising her eyebrow as Haylen blushed. “Fine, I won’t pick on you two _too_ much... Besides. This world is ten types of fucked up. Sometimes you just need to grab ahold of something good, you know, someone that makes you happy.”

Haylen relaxed at Nora’s approval, squeezing her shoulder briefly in thanks. “I knew you, of all people, would understand.”

“I do.” She admitted, thinking about how Danse had wrapped his arms around her as she cried, despite his previously stated discomfort with physical contact. As much as she tried to ignore it, she felt her heart flutter at the thought. “But, that’s not why I came over. I have to find a Knight Captain Cade?”

Haylen nudged her shoulder with her own before starting toward a hallway. “He won’t be awake, but I can take you to his office.”

*

Danse could feel himself relax, ever so slightly, as Nora left the conference room. As well as she had behaved in front of Maxson, he was nervous that the Elder would spot something in her expression that would expose their deception. He followed Maxson’s amused gaze as the door closed behind her, leaving the two men alone.

Maxson remained silent for several moments longer, his hands clamped together behind his back in his typical introspective stance. As the silence stretched on, the sense of discomfort that had begun in his stomach only grew. He was deeply aware that Nora would have no idea how to find the MedBay, and hoped one of the night patrol would help direct her without too much of a hassle.

“I see why you recruited her, Paladin.” Maxson finally stated, turning his back to him as he made his way to the bottle of whiskey on the desk. With a quick jolt of his head, Arthur conveyed that Danse was clear to approach, which he did. “Though I must say I’m surprised.”

Danse paused, frowning at the statement. “I apologize, I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

Maxson offered a small smirk in response, extending a glass of brown liquid in Danse’s direction. The paladin carefully took the drink, a sound of appreciation his only response as he waiting for his Elder to elaborate on his comment.

“She’s a bit... unconventional.” Maxson finally offered, drinking his own glass quickly. Despite the fact that the younger man's expression was guarded, it was clear he was playing at something with his coyness.

Danse felt uneasy at the topic, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid. “I will admit, it is uncommon for a Vault dweller to be inducted into our ranks, but I am confident she will be an asset to us... She has shown honor in battle, good marksmanship skills, and an intuition that can’t be taught, sir.”

“Are those her only assets you’ve noticed, Paladin?” Maxson asked, his tone feigning boredom as he refilled his own glass.

The implication let a bad taste in Danse’s mouth, but he was determined not to hinder Nora’s chances at a seamless introduction into their ranks from that point forward. “I am certain Knight Hartt has attributes she could offer the Brotherhood. I’m not sure what you mean in particular.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of soldiers aboard who can... appreciate her assets. ” Maxson leaned against the desk, watching Danse with an almost reptilian expression. Danse could feel the color drain from his face, a fact which was not lost on Maxson who smugly shot the rest of his drink back. When the paladin offered no response, he continued, making his implication abundantly clear. “ She’ll certainly make friends quickly, especially if she chooses to walk around dressed in that Vault suit. I’m sure her fellow soldiers will be very enthusiastic that you recruited a Knight who looks like she walked straight off a pre-war billboard.”

“Initiate- I mean Knight Hartt will prove to be a good soldier.” Danse answered firmly as he considered his next sentence carefully. “I have no doubts about her dedication. Her absolute priority is taking on the Institute, and I would imagine she has no time for fraternization outside the scope of her missions.”

Danse knew he had allowed himself to be flustered by the Elder's directness, but hope it only came across as shock at the topic and not anything indecent.

Maxson nodded, pursing his lips in thought before turning back to the desk. “Thank you for your input, Paladin. Please see it that your recruit finds her way to the MedBay. I wouldn’t want her wandering off somewhere and finding herself in trouble.”

“Yes, Elder. Ad Victorium, sir.” Danse offered, holding the salute for several moments before Elder Maxson reciprocated and dismissed him. As he wandered out of the room, Danse wondered if Maxson had put him through his own test of loyalty, and more importantly, if he’d passed in the other man's eyes.

He tried the quell the anger boiling in his blood at Maxson’s implication of how his brothers and sisters would treat Nora like a sexual object. The though of one of his fellow soldiers taking advantage of her or her situation turned his stomach in a way that was foreign to him.

It wasn’t a secret that Nora looked very different from most people born and bred in the wasteland. She had a softness to her figure that was, in fact - though he hated to acknowledge it, reminiscent of the pre-war billboards and magazines. It was clear she hadn’t suffered centuries of scavenging for food and resources or having to fight off starvation from week to week. Her skin didn’t bear the typical damage from sun and radiation, unmarked by any scars from battle, so drastically unlike his own.

People would undoubtedly notice her, but he bristled at the thought, because she was more than that.

_Selfless, honorable, and kind. That wasn’t something that could be taught._

She had a compassion to her that was foreign in the wasteland, and he pondered that this trait alone was the most beautiful thing about her. At the realization of where his mind had led him, Danse quickly swept the thought from his mind, feeling ashamed at his own apparent interest in Nora. She had expressed plainly that her sole focus was her son, and it felt wrong to entertain his thoughts further.

Danse headed briskly toward the MedBay, hopeful that someone had pointed Nora in the right direction of Cade’s office. It was unlikely that the doctor would be awake at such an hour, unless Knight MacNamara was having complications from her injuries.

A few days prior, a small recon squad had been dispensed to address a group of Raiders near Saugus Ironworks that had been targeting the airport at night, stealing their supplies. Once the team had boots on the ground, they realized that there had been twice the number of Raiders than they’d anticipated, and ultimately, Recon Squad Delta had been forced to retreat. Knight MacNamara had been the last member to retreat, ensuring her people were clear and out of danger. She, however, had not been so fortunate as to get away without injury.

She had been badly injured when one of the Raiders snuck behind her and doused the back of her Power Armor in flames. The flames had heated the fusion core, causing it to implode as the flames crept in around the flame, scorching her flesh. It had been a rough few days for his sister in steel, but she seamed to be making progress.

He hoped that was still the case, but as soon as he had caught sight of the bright fluorescent light pouring from the room, he knew better. Scribe Haylen was pacing outside the door anxiously, and looked up as he approached.

“Paladin Danse.” Haylen offered weakly, shooting a panicked glare toward the room as a small whimper came from behind the curtain. Before he could answer the scribe, Nora’s voice echoed put from behind the curtain, and his blood ran cold, if such a thing were physically possible.

“Hey hey, Nicole... You’re okay.” Nora offered, a faint whimper the only answer to her reassurance. “You are doing so good here. Cade says I gotta keep distracting you, okay? Do you want to hear a funny story, maybe?”

Knight MacNamara’s voice was so faint, drowned out by a heavy wheezing, that Danse almost couldn’t hear her response. “Yes... Please.”

“Okay... Uh, picture this. The week before Christmas, 2075,” Nora let out a small laugh before continuing. “I know, it sounds impossible, but stay with me here... So it was, a few years after my husband and I had gotten married. He had never celebrated Christmas before, you see, he was Jewish... Are you following me?”

“I... I do. My mom was... I know about it.” MacNamara offered, her voice was still pained and gasping, but slightly stronger. Danse could feel his heart pounding against his chest and met Haylen’s eyes, neither of them willing to move. It was clear from her ragged breathing that Nicole MacNamara was faring much worse than she had been the previous day.

“Okay, good! Well Nathaniel, Nate, he didn’t know anything about Christmas trees... The poor guy was so excited to put up this artificial tree before I could get home from work.” Nora let out another small chuckle. ”He didn’t realize that you had to building the damn thing yourself, thought it came premade in the box. That’s what we had to do, back in the old days. Think of it like putting your laser rifle back together but with no instructions and twice the amount of parts you need... So, come to find out, he had called an asked a couple of our neighbors to help. But that couple had invited a few other neighbors. They thought they'd have a good laugh at my poor Nate's expense, but before he knew it, they had accidentally recruited half the neighborhood to try and help him put this thing together. It turned into this huge debate... I came home with a dozen of my neighbors arguing in my living room. Mind you, the tree was still not put together, it was sitting in a pile on the floor.”

“That’s funny...He-” MacNamara gasped suddenly, a small, agonizing whimper stopping her voice briefly before she was able to finish her statement. “He sounds- he sounds like a good guy.”

“Yeah...” Nora answered, he voice cracking slightly. “He really was. He was the greatest.”

Cade cleared his throat as he appeared around the curtain, shooting Danse and Haylen a disapproving glare before grabbing clean bandages and returning to work. Even from the doorway, they could hear the uneven, shallow hitch of MacNamara’s weak breathing increase abruptly.

Nora continued speaking, clearly trying to distract the other woman as Cade continued to work. “You know, I have a baby, and Nate used to constantly irritate me about being pregnant... Before the war, yes I know that sound’s insane, but don’t give me that look. Before the war, we had something called a potato. Similar to a tato, but, still different. Well, the doctor used to give us updates as he grew about how big he was getting, comparing his size to various things. It was little things of course like... take like, a bottle cap. Then a tarberry... And eventually, a tato.”

MacNamara let out a weak, crackling laugh, her voice fading as Nora continued. “He used to constantly call our son a ‘tato’ after that. It used to piss me off, honestly... But I... I miss it, for sure.”

Cade muttered something under his breath, a sense of urgency in his tone. Nora quickly cleared her throat.

“You know, one of my favorite things about Nate? He had terrible jokes.” She let out a small, sad laugh, before continuing. “Just the other day, I was in Diamond City. There was this little girl... She walked up to a street vendor selling noodles and asked him if his generator was running... When he said it was, she told him that he better go catch it, then ran off giggling.”

MacNamara let out a small laugh, coughing heavily before a raspy, panicked gasping replaced it.

“I thought it was pretty funny too. Back two hundred years ago, you know, and we had a similar joke about a refrigerator. You guys have those?” Nora asked, her tone controlled.

“We do.” Cade answered quickly, the sound of raspy breaths growing more erratic and frequent.

“So we used to have a joke about running refrigerators... Kids used to make phone calls and ask random people if their refrigerator’s were running. When they’d say they were, the kids would hang up at start laugh their asses off.” Nora continued softly, the raspy breath turning into a violent cough once more. “Shh.. You’re okay Nicole... You’re okay, we’re going to take care of you, okay? You’re going to be okay, I’ll have to tell you more of my terrible jokes... okay?”

It was clear MacNamara was struggling harder to breath with every rattling breath and the panicked tone to Nora’s reassurance. Danse could hear Cade quickly digging around his surgical tools, and heard his quick steps as he moved behind the curtain. He was vaguely aware of Haylen shifting uncomfortably next to him.

The sharpness of Nora’s breath as the rasping suddenly stopped told Danse everything he needed to know about what had transpired. He felt a pang of grief at the realization, having served with MacNamara back at the Citadel. Cade stopped rummaging in his bag, not so much as taking another step. The resounding silence was almost painful, no one willing to move for several minutes before Cade cleared his throat.

“Knight Hartt...” The doctor started, his tone even but marked with his on grief. “I will let your superiors know how you went above and beyond for your fellow soldier tonight. You didn’t have to stay and see this.”

“No... Please don’t.” Nora croaked weakly. “This isn’t about me. I’d actually... Rather forget I was here.”

Danse quickly cleared his throat, loud enough to draw attention to his presence. Cade moved around the curtain, shaking his head as Nora followed behind him, turning toward Danse and Haylen to determine how much they had heard. Haylen stared at the pair as they emerged, a horrified look clouded in her eyes.

“Paladin Danse.” Cade addressed, placing the medical box heavily against his desk as he moved to take a seat.

“Knight Captain Cade.” Danse addressed, turning to Nora as Haylen watched on silently. “He is correct, you know. You did not have to do what you did to comfort Knight MacNamara tonight. You deserve recognition where recognition is due, Knight Hartt.”

“Stop! I didn’t go ‘above and beyond’, that’s bullshit.” Nora snapped, her eyes wide and wet as she turned to face him. “I simply acted like a fucking human being here, while someone had to lay there dying in excruciating, because all this world knows is death and violence and-and war...” She let out a sad laugh at her statement. “I just... I need to take a walk. _Alone_.”

The trio watched as Nora stormed off, confidently turning toward the stairs which would lead her back up to the foredeck. Despite the fact that Haylen and Cade both watched him expectantly, either in shock or disapproval at the outburst, Danse did not follow after her. Instead, he returned to his own quarters with only the profound feeling of emptiness remaining as he considered her words.

As much as he had wanted to follow, she had specifically asked for her space, and he wanted to respect that boundary, even if complying escalated his own distress.

*

Nora wasn’t sure how, but she had made her way up onto a tiny alcove of the ship that overlooked the Commonwealth, staring off into the ruins as she tried to clear her mind. The mental image of Knight MacNamara’s horribly burned skin and the gasping sound of her weak breaths, followed her as she paced, refusing to leave her thoughts.

Frustrated, she moved to sit on the metal deck and curled into herself, bringing her knees to her chest. She thought idly that her fear of heights had been replaced by the somber reality of watching someone die right in front of her.

_That's one way to overcome a phobia._

There had been many calls where she had to hold someone’s hand while they passed on from the world, either by their own decision or that of another. Hell, she had watched Nate get murdered before her very eyes, it wasn’t as if death was new to her.

Granted there was something tragic about burn victims that broke her heart in a different way. It was often times more traumatic to watch someone desperately struggle to hold on to life for several minutes, only to succumb to their injuries. Their extended pain, only softened by the fruitless hope that they’d recover, despite the retching pain shooting through their every neuron.

Knight Nicole MacNamara’s desperately hopeful gaze as Cade worked on her, quickly replacing the heavily saturated bandages, would haunt her for weeks to come.

_What’s one more nightmare added to the queue? Another face to see behind closed eyes? Variety is the spice of life, after all._

She was almost able to disassociate fully before the door behind her scrapped open. A small smirk graced her lips as she saw Knight Rhys, of all people crossing the threshold.

“Apologies, Hartt.” Rhys stated quickly, looking thoroughly disinterested in the conversation.

“Rhys, sit.” She ordered with all the maternal force she could muster, but she was certainly surprised to see Rhys follow her instruction, crossing his legs and sitting on the cold deck of the forecastle next to her. The pair sat in silence for over an hour, watching the night sky before Nora dared speak.

“You ever see anyone die in front of you?” She asked bluntly, refusing to look in his direction as he stilled.

“I heard about Knight MacNamara.” Rhys stated plainly, his face contorted in a brief grimace before answering. “But yeah... I know the feeling.”

“It never gets better, you know.” She offered weakly, eyes focused on where Fenway Park used to stand, now replaced by the ‘Great Green Jewel’ that was Diamond City. “No matter how many years pass, you’ll still see them. Maybe not as often, but still.”

Rhys was silent for several long minutes, following her glance as he allowed his own gaze to scan the decrepit skyline of the once bustling city of Boston. “Is what you told MacNamara true? That you were alive before the war?”

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of her past, but didn’t bother denying it. “It’s a long story, but yeah.”

He shot her a quick glance before focusing on the airport below. “Why’d you tell her all that?”

“Cade said to talk to her, so I did.” Nora shrugged, turning to face him. “She needed to think about something else. Besides, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

Rhys met her eyes and nodded only briefly. “You know... I still think you’re an asshole... But, I guess you’re one of us now, so.”

“Thanks, jackass.” She answered, focusing on the stars twinkling in the night sky. “You can tell Danse or Haylen or whoever sent you that they can come up now..." He let out a small breath as he rose, clearly relieved their conversation was coming to an end. "And Rhys?”

“What?” He groaned, shooting her an exasperated glance.

“Thanks.”

“Ah, shut up.” Rhys muttered, opening the door quickly and disappearing inside.

She almost rolled her eyes as Danse appeared around the door a few minutes later with a sheepish expression. He moved to sit next to her quietly, trying to read her forlorn expression.

“Really, Danse? You sent Rhys up here, of all people?” She shot him a faux-annoyed expression, a sad smirk wearing into her tired appearance. 

“I didn’t instruct him to come up and speak with you, per se. It was more of a begrudging compliance on his part at the direction of Scribe Haylen...” Danse stated seriously, watching for any hint of anger in her face. “But I will confess, I didn't object. I thought that should you decided to tell him to, uh-”

“Fuck off?” She offered, pleasantly entertained by Danse’s propriety.

“I’ll admit, I did consider that was the verbiage you’d chose. But, we thought he’d be the most receptive to such criticism from you.” Nora watched as daylight began to encroach over the horizon, the shadows slowly beginning to move across the city. “Are you okay? What happened with Knight MacNamara was... unfortunate.”

“I... I don’t know. It was horrible.” She let out a long breath, closing her eyes as she tried to erase the images from her mind. “I just can’t seem to catch a break. It all feels like too much, all the time.”

Danse could feel his chest grow tighter at the miserable expression in Nora’s eyes, revealing a much deeper pain than he’d previously been permitted to view. He reached forward, covering her hand, resting atop her knee, with his own. “For what it’s worth, I firmly believe you offered Knight MacNamara comfort in her final moments in a way no one else would have been able to do.”

She nodded, visibly relaxing at the contact of his hand over her own. “Thank you.... For not looking at me like I’m broken... Or like you feel sorry for me.”

“You asked me last week why I was so tough on you.” Danse started, frowning. “When I first joined, I felt the same way. My superior, Paladin Krieg, seemed to ride me harder than any of the other initiates... and I hated him for it, at first. It's taken me a long time to realize it, but the reason Krieg was so tough on me is the same reason I'm so tough on you. It's because I believe in you. You have the potential to do a lot of good, and more than that, you do. Constantly.”

“Did you ever ask Krieg why he was so hard on you?” She wondered, moving her palm to face upward against his own, watching Danse’s crestfallen expression before she realized her mistake.

“I never got the chance...” Danse admitted as he interlocked their fingers, suddenly craving the intimate contact. He was readily ignoring any of the warning bells in his mind about 'decorum' or 'impropriety', instead postulating it was a mere gesture of comfort and empathy. “After I was promoted to Paladin and I had moved on to my own squad, I received word that Krieg was killed at Adams Air Force Base. The news was like being kicked in the stomach. I mean, I'd lost some of my brothers and sisters before, but his death... well, it really got to me.”

“Of course. How could it not?” She reassured, absent-mindedly rubbing circles against his hand with her thumb. Danse didn’t answer, instead contently watching her small, reassuring movement against the back of his hand before she spoke again. “This world is exhausting.”

Danse hummed in agreement, watching as the sun peaked over the horizon. “We should head back inside the Prydwen. I’m expected for a mission later today.”

“Where are we off to?” She asked quickly. The thought of Danse running off to the opposite side of the Commonwealth and leaving her alone aboard the Prydwen with Elder Maxon terrified her more than a supermutant suicider, though she wasn't quite sure why the man unnerved her so.

“While your presence on the mission would be appreciated, it certainly is not required.” He answered, quickly taking note of her worried expression, before clarifying. “I only mean to state that you could be excused, should you wish to recuperate from the night's earlier stressors.”

“I don’t.” The answer was firm and final, as she begrudgingly let go of his hand and stood, her face composed into her typical indifferent disguise.

Danse frowned, missing the warmth of her hand entwined with his, but followed her movements with a slight nod. “Understood, soldier. I’ll direct you to Proctor Ingram and meet you near the armory at ten-hundred hours.”

He reached for the door, holding it open to allow her through first, and focused on keeping his composure, hoping none of their fellow soldiers would notice the faint redness in his cheeks as they proceeded through the Prydwen.


	23. Mighty, Might Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Well, when there's work to do, send for the mighty one  
> Yes, when there's work to do you better send for the mighty one  
> Yes, he'll stay on the job until the job is done'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking.  
> Yes, I have been sitting on this chapter for a couple days.  
> Yes, I also have part of the next chapter that I'm sitting on.
> 
> I am being very particular with these next couple chapters.

After guiding Nora to Proctor Ingram to be fitted for her Power Armor, Danse slipped away to his quarters, considering a brief nap given his lack of sleep the previous night.

But as much as he tried, he couldn’t quell his thoughts or the shocking loneliness that encompassed him as he lay alone in his bed.Only a few hours earlier, Nora had been perched on his desk, her head against his chest as he held her, arms wrapped around her shoulders.

He recalled how her breathing had become erratic at the mention of her son, her eyes distant as he recognized the beginnings of her mounting anxiety. It was quite common for Brotherhood soldiers to become prone to such attacks after experiencing significant stressors, and Nora had certainly endured her fair share in the past few weeks alone.

But, as if by some miracle, he had been able to get her grounded before the attack could fully mount it’s offense. She had leaned into his touch, relaxing as he brought his hand to her cheek. The recollection caused a foreign warmth to grow in his chest.

He wasn’t quite sure why he had made such a movement, not in particular; much like his ill-thought out deception to Maxson, it had occurred on reflex. When Nora had pressed her head against his chest, it was almost instinctual that he would wrap his arms around her shoulders. Such hasty actions that he had found himself prone to in her presence were thoroughly unlike him.

_Impulse isn’t a characteristic befitting of a Brotherhood soldier, and certainly not a Paladin. There are expectations of decorum and restraint for a reason._

However, he recalled the time he had held Haylen in her own moment of distress. As similar as the scenarios might appear to another, Danse acknowledged that something felt profoundly different about holding Nora, something more intimate. When she had pulled away, he missed the contact and wanted desperately to hold her once more. The thought of capitalizing on his subordinate’s distress in her vulnerable state made him feel uneasy, shameful even.

If he was a better man, he’d ask Elder Maxson to reassign her to a paladin who wouldn’t cross the line of professionalism in such a blatant manner, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to admit such a thing to himself much less aloud to his superior. Maxson would chide him endlessly about his behavior, smugly asserting that his own complicated feelings toward Nora were the sole contributor of her induction, and Danse was unwilling for her reputation to be compromised in such a manner.

Besides, she had only been free from the Vault for a little under two months, having witnessed her husband’s cold blooded murder just moments before.

_Well, maybe not just before. She had said she’d been frozen for a decade since then, but that’s besides the point._

It didn’t matter how long ago her husband had been killed, he knew to her it felt like only a couple months. Her sweet reminiscing of her life before the war squandered any consideration he might have that something indecent would transpire between them. From her account to Knight MacNamara the previous night, it was clear she was very much still enamored with her late husband, and understandably so.

_It’s perverse, thinking about one’s subordinate in such a romantic manner; one who had lost her entire family mere months ago. And for what? For a quick embrace? A couple interlocked hands that were nothing more than friendly and chaste? It’s shameful and unbecoming for a Brotherhood Paladin, dammit!_

Danse shook the thoughts from his head, recalling the vile implication Maxson had made about how his fellow soldiers might entertain taking advantage of Nora, and here he was allowing his own thoughts to traverse into intimate domain.

No, he reasoned. It was his own burden to bear. He had manipulated platonic embraces and affection into something more intimate, allowing his improper thoughts and desires to crave such contact. It was nothing to concern himself with, much less Elder Maxson.

_Only a mere infatuation that would surely pass._

Besides, he didn’t trust any other paladin to uphold his own promise to help find her son. That was his guarantee, and he was determined to ensure he kept is word.

By the time Danse had allowed his thoughts to run rampant, convincing himself that ultimately, nothing improper had occurred at all and that he was just comforting his knight during her moment of distress, it was near time to meet with Maxson for their briefing. He knew the rudimentary details for the Fort Strong mission, but additional intel was needed before they could mount their defense. With an exaggerated groan, he rose to stand, only allowing a brief moment to adjust his uniform and assure his gig line was even before heading up to the armory.

Much to his surprise, Nora was leaning against table chatting eagerly with Proctor Ingram about modifications she had made to her rifle. Proctor Ingram wasn’t particularly renowned for her friendly demeanor and to see his recruit so engrossed in excited discourse with the woman was unexpected, to say the least.

“Knight Hartt.” He addressed, nodding to the pair. “Proctor Ingram. You’re looking well.”

“You’re a liar and you know it, kid.” Ingram answered smartly, shooting him an irritated glance as she scanned his face. “Did you manage to destroy another one of my helmets yet, or are you going for the record?” Nora let out a small chuckle, before quickly pressing her lips together as Ingram smirked at her and elaborated. “I swear, this guy can’t keep a helmet for longer than a week without destroying it somehow.”

“I have no doubts, Proctor.” Nora stated, shooting Danse an apologetic look and moving to straighten her pose. He tried not to scowl in response, focusing instead on the easy banter the women shared. It was a relief to see his recruit acclimate so rapidly with their fellow soldiers, even if it was at his expense.

“I assure you, Proctor Ingram. All of the damage I have incurred to my helmets was entirely unavoidable.” He defended, ignoring the raised eyebrow Nora shot him.

If she considered mentioning the fact that he _had_ almost been shot in the head by a synth on their recent ArcJet mission due to his own inattention in the field, she didn’t show any inclination to do so, which he was deeply grateful for. Proctor Ingram shot him an exasperated look before turning back to the set of armor she was working on without another word.

“Ready to head out, Paladin?” Nora offered, extending her hand dramatically to indicate the entrance toward the hallway.

“Affirmative, Knight.” He answered, almost amused at her uncharacteristic adherence to titles and rank. It seemed almost as if she were playing a game, one only they were privy to, and there was something strangely enticing about the secrecy.

He lead the way toward the briefing room silently, glowering at any of the newer initiates who made the miscalculation to stare at the pair as they made their way through the ship. The hungry gazes that kept falling on Nora, who was still dressed in tha _t damn_ Vault suit, were much more apparent than he’d anticipated. Danse wasn’t sure if it was the shade of blue or the way the fabric clung to her figure that drew so much attention, either way, he was thoroughly vexed at the unwarranted stares his initiate was receiving.

As they turned the corner, he was more than relieved to see the briefing room near deserted, save for Lancer Swinton who sat in the corner, regarding them both with a cautious but partially disinterested gaze.

Swinton was one of the more reclusive members of their order, despite her induction into their ranks in her late teens. Having shown an impressive aptitude for flying and a severe lack of interpersonal skills, she was appropriately assigned to flight duty, which appeared to suit her quite well.

Her blonde hair was cut short in a chopped, pixie-esque style, her green eyes sharp and unforgiving as they regarded any who passed by her with clear apprehension. Had she not been so distrustful, an angry scowl permanently etched against her features, she might have garnered significant attention from the eager young bachelors and bachelorettes on board, but even Maxson steered clear of the woman whenever possible.

“Knight Hartt.” Maxson stated, ignoring Danse completely as he turned his gaze toward Nora. It was uncommon for one to address the lowest ranking member in a group, and that fact was not lost on Danse as he observed the exchange. “Are you ready to prove yourself to the Brotherhood?”

Before he could interject, Danse noticed the defiant look in his knight’s eyes and groaned internally at whatever challenge she perceived Maxson had presented to her.

“Have I not already proven myself to the Brotherhood, Elder?” Nora asked with an ignorance that was blatantly feigned. From the corner of his eye, he saw Swinton smirk quietly to herself, cleaning the space under her nails with a small switchblade as she listened eagerly to the exchange. “I mean, you did grant me the rank of Knight in record time. I had thought such a matter indicated your confidence in my abilities.”

Danse could feel the panic set into his stomach at her brashness, trying desperately to look away from the calculated expression Maxson bore. He caught sight of Swinton’s amused grin, her gaze now on his own expression, as she regarding him in a much more analytical manner than he was comfortable with or accustomed to. Maxson offered a small, genuine smile before answering.

“It’s been quite some time since someone dissected my motives so thoroughly.” He stated, shooting Danse a questioning look. “Paladin Danse may have been the last person to sway me, should it stand to reason.”

“He is quite prone to reason and logic, sir.” Nora answered as a small heat crept up Danse’s neck.

“That does seem to be the case, does it not?” Maxson retorted, focusing once more on his recruit. “You see, the Brotherhood of Steel had not always been so enlightened in their views... There was a time when our previous elders permitted atrocities to occur without so much as lifting a finger to intervene. I was a young squire myself, when much of this happened. After I took my position, Paladin Danse came to me with a compose argument on how we could improve as an organization.”

Danse was suddenly aware of three sets of eyes on him and he cleared his throat. “I assure you, Elder, it was simply a reiteration of what many, much more enlightened individuals had expressed to me during my time with the Brotherhood.”

“He’s much too modest.” Maxson answered quickly, looking back to Nora with a harshness behind his cool gaze. It was clear he wanted to appeal to Nora, though Danse had no conceivable rationale as to why he was determined to do so with such vigor. “You see, Paladin Danse could be credited as one of the driving forces of change in our sector of the Brotherhood. It was by his sway alone that even _I_ was persuaded to be... more compassionate. I am a forgiving man and it is critical I be conscientious when determining how to improve the Brotherhood... I dare say the good Paladin is a source of advice when I need to make dire decisions. When Paladin Danse vouches for your merit, I take such a recommendation under careful consideration. So make no mistake, it is by his word alone that I allowed your promotion so quickly. ”

"I believe I understand, Elder." Nora forced a smile to her face before answering. "I suppose I’m in good company for my training then, yes?”

Maxson paused only briefly before responding. “Indeed... Paladin Danse is one of my most trusted _advisors_.”

Danse watched the exchange cautiously, trying to decipher the meaning behind their carefully constructed retorts. It was clear Maxson was trying to sway Nora into believing and adhering to their message, but she seemed determined to stake her allegiance steadily to Danse as and individual, instead of the Brotherhood as a whole. The notion inspired complicated feelings to develop inside him that he was none too eager to consider at the moment.

“I appreciate your kind words, Elder.” Danse stated, sensing it would be appropriate to interject at that point. Swinton had been notably silent from where she sat in the corner, pretending to be interested in re-lacing her boots instead of the battle of wills before her.

Maxson simply nodded in response, frowning as he turned his attention to Danse. “As for your mission, Paladin.”

*

Nora had tried to listen to Maxson’s self-indulgent rhetoric without smarting off, she really had, but there was just something about the man that rubbed her the wrong way. She was nothing if not prone to impulse, so _of course_ she had to taunt the Elder with feigned ignorance. It was almost a given, really. She wasn’t entirely sure if Maxson had bought into her coy answers, but nonetheless, he seemed pleased after dispensing their mission parameters.

Still, it wasn’t until she, Danse, and their pilot - Lancer Swinton, had piled into the Vertibird, that she allowed herself a moment to relax. Every exchange she had on the Prydwen thus far had seemed rife with implication or secrecy, and it was hard to not feel on edge in such an environment.

In all honesty, it reminded her of her former department when the infamous corruption cases began to come to light. At the revelations of the gross misconduct many of the officers had engaged in, those who had not been explicitly involved was on edge, accusatory even under the guise of amicability. In an instant, the officers who swore to have each others backs were distrustful and paranoid of their own. When Kevins had successfully completed suicide, it only advance the friction within the department. Hell, it had been unbearable enough for her to high-tail herself out of there and never look back.

_One of many reasons, but still._

The thought sent a surge of sadness through her as she wondered briefly how many Brotherhood soldiers might be dealing with the same affliction as her now deceased friend, having seen too many people past the point of saving and shouldering the burden alone.

“The Brotherhood is fortunate to have Elder Maxson at out helm. I’m pleased that he has been so receptive to your initiation.” Danse claimed proudly, watching her as she secured herself into the harness next to the minigun.

She paused, watching her ‘sponsor’ with a guarded expression. “Certainly. But I can’t help but notice, he seems so young compared to everyone else. You're okay with that?”

“Maxson's a brilliant tactician, a formidable warrior and possesses an idealistic vision for the future of the Brotherhood. I'd follow him anywhere, without question.” He answered quickly, clearly eager to sway Nora regarding the elder’s ability. Noting her skeptical expression, he elaborated. “A decade ago, the Brotherhood had almost gone completely astray....The Elder before Maxson sent us down a path that was leading nowhere... he was more concerned about charity than the preservation of technology-”

“Why is that a bad thing?” Nora snapped, watching him with a look that was near judgmental. To hear someone she respected, hell, someone she cared for, talk about helping the those in need like it was a dirty concept, it damn-near broke her heart. “ _Charity_ is the only reason I stopped to help you and your team back in Cambridge in the first place. It's the only reason I have half the people in my corner that I do. It seems if you have all these resources you might as well help the ‘regular folk’."

She felt her heart sink, noting how he paused, clearly uncertain on how to respond for a few long moments before Swinton pipped up, looking over the corner of the magazine she was reading.

“I can’t say I disagree. I only joined up because the Brotherhood gave my family water back in the Capitol. They saved my kid-sister’s life, so I figured it was worth it to join up and repay the favor.” The blonde woman shrugged, looking back toward the page she had been scanning.

“I guarantee, when Maxson took over, he single-handedly re-prioritized the Brotherhood from the ground up and put us back on the path to glory.” Danse rebutted, eyes darting between the two women cautiously. Nora frowned, raising her eyes to meet his gaze. The steadfast statement bred more questions than answers, as she wondered the sort of ‘priorities’ the Brotherhood had, and if she had aligned herself with them too hastily.

“What did Maxson mean when he said you ‘swayed ‘ him?” She asked, her tone cold and professional, despite the multitude of emotions battling for dominance in her mind.

“Knight Hartt, I don’t believe that's necessary-” He started, cut off by Swinton’s sardonic laugh.

“Don’t let the good Paladin fool you.” Swinton started, raising an eyebrow in his direction. Nora suddenly realized she was fond of the mouthy young woman who wasn’t afraid to swim against the metaphorical stream, so much mirroring her own stubborn independence. “Before your boss here spoke up, the Brotherhood was all-too-happy to kill _non_ -feral ghouls-”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Nora criticized, an angry glare on her face as the idea wrecked disgust through her thoughts. _Murder, it just was cold blooded murder._ She thought about Hancock's statements the previous week and feel suddenly ill. “They’re just fucking people. Jesus-”

“Trust me, I know.” Swinton agreed, her magazine now thrown down on her lap as she gesticulated wildly. “This guy?” She pointed to Danse. “ _This guy_ convinced Elder Maxson that ghouls were just people like the rest of us. Granted, kinda ugly people, but whatever. It was only _after_ Paladin Danse here appealed to the council that Elder Maxson officially outlawed the killing of regular ghouls.”

Nora turned toward him, a fondness in her heart at the revelation. A sudden heat was growing in her chest as she regarded her superior’s face with an affection she couldn’t quite contain. “You really did that?”

“I would not be so egotistical to take credit for such a change. There were numerous factors to-” He started, but instantly stopped as he noticed her expression, his eyebrows pulled down in confusion

“That’s amazing, Danse.” She gushed, the professional titles markedly absent and forgotten from her mind. She thought of her own assumptions on his prejudice against ghouls, given his previous conflict with Hancock. 

“I-I had simply advised the Elder of the facts of the matter... But I appreciate your support nonetheless.” He frowned but further elaborated. “There are many in the Brotherhood who did not, and still don’t, share the same sentiment.”

Nora felt herself soften, fighting every urge to reach out toward him, before offering a curt nod as she recomposed her visage. “I understand, Paladin. However, I will say, I am glad to be honored by your company.”

He allowed a small, tender smile at such a revelation, regarding her only briefly. Before he could formulate a response, Swinton spoke up, tearing the pair from the 'bubble' they had found themselves in.

“Hate to break up the love here and all,” She started, causing both Nora and Danse to look away as they flushed . “But, I’m pretty sure Scribe Matthues is walking over here with the transmitter, so that means we’re good to head out. So if y’all want to compose yourselves or whatever.”

Swinton waved her hand in a back and forth motion, as if dismissing such a thought as irrelevant. Nora could feel the heat growing at the back of her neck as she fixed her focus on the uninteresting pattern of metal beneath her feet.

As she followed the geometrical design on the floor with her eyes, a near-silent voice in the back of her mind pondered if this exact sight was the last that her father had seen, right before his Vertibird had been shot down over the Atlantic Ocean, or if he’d actually noticed the missile head on as it barreled toward him and his crew. She swallowed, refusing to allow herself to indulge the thought as the young scribe ran toward them, device in hand.

_No time to think about it now. It’s go time._

*

Danse watched with admiration as Nora maneuvered the minigun, aiming at the ground beneath them as they approached their target, Fort Strong. Despite her lack of training, at least under the Brotherhood as it were, it was clear she knew how to handle the hefty weapon. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her technique, rivaling even the best of knight’s he’d served with.

“What in the fuck is that?” She hollered over the whir of the Vertibird’s propellers, staring at the ruins beneath them in horror. He quickly followed her gaze and stilled. For once he shared her sentiment and lack of professionalism, a burning hate expanding through his stomach as he regarded the bulking figure below.

“That monstrosity you see is a Behemoth, a bastardization of humanity.” He snarled and he knew that his tone was full of the hatred that overwhelmed him where _those creatures_ were concerned.

As he glared at the figure, he felt Nora’s eyes turn toward him. He shot her a quick warning glance, noting how her own face hardened in an instant, undoubtedly interpreting his own steeled expression. Much to his surprise, she did not offer a comment, not even the sarcastic or mocking one that he had anticipated. Instead, she turned her attention to the minigun and began firing at the behemoth below.

The beast let out an angry roar, turning to throw a boulder toward the aircraft which, had it not been for Swinton’s quick change of course, would have undoubtedly struck them.

“Keep her even, Lancer Swinton!” He ordered, a sense of dread striking through him at the consideration of how astute the monster’s aim had been.

“Oh and here I thought I was going to go for a crash landing.” The pilot snapped, jerking the controls as she escaped another boulder that had been mere moments from their propellers. “I might not have the fancy titles, Paladin, but I have been doing this for almost a decade... Well, close enough.”

The woman’s attitude reminded him exactly _why_ Lancer Swinton had not been endowed with a higher rank, remaining a single level above Initiate. If it had not been for her spotless flight record, she would have undoubtedly been removed long ago for insubordination.

“Seven years is hardly a decade, Lancer. May I remind yo-” He started as a small grunt of pain drew his attention toward Nora, still firing away at the supermutants beneath them, the behemoth now nothing more than a mound of mutilated flesh on the ground. “Initiate Hartt, status check?”

“I’m fine.” She groaned, focusing on the mutant peering around the crumbled building, firing in her direction. “Hot casings, that’s all.”

He nodded, quickly spotting the small red mark on the side of her jaw. “Minigun’s tend to overheat, making the casings-”

“Shit!” Swinton cursed, angrily hitting the controls as a well placed shot caused the whirring blades to stutter, jerking them down suddenly before leveling out. “Come on, old girl.”

“Swinton! Status?” Danse demanded, firing his own rifle as the supermutants came into range.

“Fu-Okay,” She answered, looking toward Nora, still focused and firing on her target, before answering. “Paladin, either you and Knight Hartt need to bail out in the next two minutes to continue the mission or we’re all going back home.”

“Excuse me?” He answered angrily, reloading the fusion cells into his rifle.

“I’ll get you as low as I can, then I’m taking her back to the Prydwen.” Swinton ordered, daring Danse to challenge her. She knew that as much as he was her superior and lead on the mission, when it came to directing Vertibird operations, her word was final. “Ninety seconds! Get ready to jump.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Nora answered, looking toward him hopelessly as he unbuckled his own harness.

“Unfortunately, Knight Hartt, jumping from a moderate level does appear to be our best option.” He acquiesced, his stomach lurching as they dipped rapidly toward the earth. At the knight’s small scream, his armored hand reached out, steadying her shoulder as she stumbled forward. He said a small word of thanks to whatever forces be that Nora had not followed his example and unharnessed herself as of yet.

“Forty seconds!” Swinton instructed, leveling the aircraft suddenly as they hovered approximately seven feet from the ground below.

Nora quickly unclasped the buckles of the harness as Danse covered her, firing at the bulking mutated figures peering around the ruins. He saw her quickly move to the edge of the aircraft, bend her knees and still completely, staring at the ground below. At her lack of movement he turned toward her, trying desperately to meet her eyes through his visor.

“You need to jump!” He urged, as her wild gaze regarding the visor of his helmet, before softening his tone. “Nora, please. You’ll be safe from the height.”

_Probably._

She nodded quietly, crouching briefly before falling to the ground below, landing with a indignant yelp as she righted herself. Almost as if sensing his own movement, she sped forward with her rifle aimed, drawing the mutant’s fire as he jumped down behind her, the ground reverberating slightly. Danse refocused the rifle in front of him once more, firing the final few shots toward the last supermutant’s head as the figure toppled over with a clatter.

A movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention, still high on alert before recognizing the color. The bright blue of the Vault suit, a clean one she had apparently retrieved from Vault 111, that was thankfully reinforced with metal armor, shone bright against the dull brown landscape.

“Knight Hartt any injuries?” He asked as she approached, panting heavily as she held her side.

“Oh me? No, no. Just like being back at the academy.” She answered, moving to straighten as she caught her breath. Letting out a heavy sigh, she dropped her hand scanning his armor in the process. “You?”

He paused, allowing a moment for his adrenaline to wear off as he moved his limbs prior to replying. “No injuries to report.”

She pursed her lips, looking at the behemoth in the distance. “Can’t say I expected that. Remind me to think your highness for his thorough briefing.”

The sarcasm wasn’t lost on him, nor her apparent disdain for their Elder, but mid-mission was not the time to chastise her continued disregard.

“You must hate these mutants as much as I do.” He stated, to which she only shrugged, scanning the horizon. “Follow me. Fort Strong shouldn’t be too far.”

“I swear to god, Danse if this is like the ‘short jot’ to ArcJet, I’ll kick your ass myself.” She grumbled, following as he led them toward the towering base in the distance.

Much to his surprise, he found the threat endearing and chuckled quietly at the thought. It reminded him of how Nora had stood over him after that very mission, injured and covered in bandages, but with a look in her eyes that assured him she was considering unleashing her full fury on him without so much as a second thought.

“I assure you, this journey should be much simpler than our previous.” He promised, taking note of her playful smile that sent a sensation through him that he was absolutely not willing to entertain.

*

Much to Nora’s surprise, the mission had in fact been easier than the previous shit-show at ArcJet. She tried to flatter herself by accounting for their success as her own improved skill, hardened by the last two months traversing the wasteland, but in all honesty, the supermutants had been lazy and disorganized. They hadn’t even had any of their crew outfitted with explosives, which was a welcome relief. She dreaded to imagine what an explosion so close to a stockpile of nuclear bombs could result in.

Almost as soon as she had seen the shells, she was brought back to the platform of the Vault, watching helplessly as the mushroom cloud encroached over Boston, the last fragment of her life in ‘the before’ coming to an abrupt end.

Danse had knelt so close to the vicious weapons, either not aware or not considering the endless destruction they could cause. When he turned to place the transmitter, she had slipped away, eager to put as much distance between her and the shells.

The warmth of the wasteland accompanied by the now-familiar smell of radiation drew her back into the moment. She thought it so strange, that the smell of rot and chemical which had annihilated her senses upon her exit from the vault now grounded her.

“Are you alright?” The voice behind her asked as she spun around, squinting her eyes in annoyance as Danse approached. She cursed herself for not hearing him approach. When he was in Power Armor, the man moved with all the grace of a supermutant. She briefly entertained the idea of sharing that very thought with him before deciding wisely against it.

_No use in antagonizing the poor guy._

“Yeah, fine. Just don’t like getting too close to those things.” She answered, realizing the words were too rushed to appear nonchalant like she hoped. “Bad memories and all that.”

Danse looked at her only briefly, his attention drawn back toward the sky as another Vertibird approached, this one much larger than Swinton’s had been. “Be advised, Elder Maxson is about to join us, Knight Hartt.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” She grumbled, plastering a well-constructed facade of eager soldier to her face, ignoring the stern disapproval marking Danse’s own.

The Vertibird landed near-seamlessly, followed by Maxson’s calculated emergence from the side of the aircraft, a self-congratulatory smile on his lips as he spotted them.

“I’m pleased that you made such quick work of Fort Strong. I had anticipated significantly more resistance.” He turned his focus to Nora’s feigned joyful expression with a proud nod. “I must contend, your abilities do in fact match Paladin Danse’s assessment.”

“Thank you, Elder. It is a high compliment, coming from you, sir.” She answered, hoping he didn’t see passed her polite tone. But, given his obvious smugness, she reasoned he hadn’t.

“Very well. You two are dismissed to return to the Prydwen. Be sure to see Knight-Captain Cade for your debriefing.” He instructed, strolling toward Fort Strong with a quick jut of his chin, as two Power Armor clad figures emerged from the Vertibird behind him.

Nora felt herself relax as the trio of soldiers grew smaller in the distance, looking toward Danse, whose face was recomposed into his trademark stoic expression as he approached the Vertibird, speaking briefly with the pilot before returning to her.

“Lancer Swinton should be returning for us momentarily.” He stated, looking toward the Prydwen eagerly.

“Because we certainly can’t share a Vertibird with his royal highness.” She smarted back, only earning a glare in response.

When Danse still hadn’t answered or initiated further conversation, Nora began to grow annoyed at the resulting silence.Being ignored had always been a serious pet peeve of hers; she would much rather address the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’, even if it resulted in raised tempers.

_That’s half the problem, genius. Never learned when to sit down and shut up. Unless of course, the discussion of feelings was involved._

*

The ride back to the Prydwen had been silent, a fact he was cognizant was primarily of his own doing. The tension between the trio had been palpable, no one willing to intervene with the oppressive awareness of discomfort.

He wasn’t sure what irritated him more, Nora’s blatant insolence regarding Maxson or the fact that the elder had felt the need to monitor their mission so closely.

Danse certainly wasn’t pleased at the sudden scrutiny Maxson had been paying to Knight Hartt. Part of him wondered if Arthur questioned his own capabilities in the field and had been inspecting his performance alongside Nora’s.

_Granted, the fate of Recon Squad Gladius was unfortunate, and there were certainly things that could have been done differently..._

Danse wondered if Maxson truly blamed him for the fates of his deceased squad mates, or if he was reanalyzing his position as Paladin. The thought inspired an insurgence of self-doubt as he ran through the mission parameters of the last op he’d instructed the late members of Gladius to undertake, only a week before Nora had stumbled upon them in Cambridge.

“Till next time, kids.” Swinton stated finally as she docked the Vertibird, pulling out another magazine from beneath her seat and shooting them an inpatient look as they failed to exit after a few long moments. “Don’t get me wrong, Hartt here is pretty to look at and all, but your little spat is really cramping my style.”

Nora toyed with a small smile at the compliment, turning toward the woman who flipped lazily through the magazine. “Pretty ladies get to call me Nora.”

Danse could feel himself gawk at that, eyeing the shit-eating grin Swinton wore, tilting her chin up in amusement.

The pilot just laughed, shaking her head. “You’re lucky I know you’re just playing or else you’d go getting me in trouble here, Nora.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, kid.” Nora answered with a shrug, emphasizing the blonde woman’s ironic nickname back to her. Of the bunch, the pilot was clearly the youngest, but had insisted on addressing them both as such. Swinton didn’t answer, turning her focus back to her reading with a shrug.

Danse was vaguely aware that he should chastise the pair for their lack of decorum, but given the cavalier tone of their banter, he determined it unnecessary. He did recognize he would need to have a conversation with Nora about her lack of propriety as a whole though. The thought of broaching that topic inspired pure dread, knowing that her comments toward Maxson would be a point of contention between them.

“C’mon Danse, you know I didn’t mean anything by it.” Nora joked as she stepped onto the deck of the Prydwen, clearly reading into his displeased expression.

“I would just caution you to be cognizant of how your fellow brothers and sisters might interpret such comments, regardless of your lack of intent.” He stated evenly, forcing himself not to reveal the anxious feeling that had begun upon hearing Nora’s flirtation with the woman.

She didn’t bother answering, moving toward the foredeck with all the determination of someone avoiding a bad mirelurk cake. He begrudgingly followed, eager to complete the debriefing as expeditiously as possible, so he could work on fortifying his armor and retire to his quarters early.

Unsurprisingly, Knight-Captain Cade regarding their arrival warmly, and he noted that the man was yet another person who had been so clearly won over by the supernova that was Knight Eleanora Hartt. Cade quickly began collecting her vitals, without so much as considering Danse for longer than a moment as he waited patiently on the cot opposite Nora.

He allowed himself a few, short moments to inspect the chest plate of his armor. The area, as per the usual, had taken the brunt of the rounds, but no significant damage had been inflicted. The repairs shouldn’t take more than an hour, given Ingram had the necessary steel components he preferred over the titanium ones typically outfitted to the more rudimentary sets of Power Armor.

“Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?” Cade asked, causing Danse’s head to shoot up in surprise, because _that_ certainly drew his attention back to the pair opposite him in the MedBay.

He deduced that while he had been lost in thought, the doctor had moved onto the initial medical evaluation Nora had not been able to undergo the previous night, all things considered. Part of him knew it would be more than appropriate to excuse himself during the particular line of questioning, but if he left now, it could potentially inspire additional attention to his discomfort regarding the topic. Besides, he thought of the way Hancock had been ‘staking his claim’ so to say with Nora the previous week and suddenly found himself very interested in her answer.

“Well, there was this one girl in college who was quite the minx, if you get my drift.” She joked, causing Cade to smile and shake his head in response, before continuing. Danse could feel himself begin to turn red at her comment and tried to look uninterested in the exchange. “Only kidding here, doc. That happens often enough for you to have a question about it?”

“You'd be surprised how many wastelanders answer 'yes' to that question. Fortunately, the Brotherhood finds that type of behavior absolutely distasteful.” Cade paused, determining if he should push for a more direct answer from her. 

_That wasn't exactly a 'No' now was it?_

“Oh I have no doubts about the Brotherhood’s stance on the matter.” She responded dryly, the humorous tone suddenly absent. The doctor paused, shooting Danse a look from where he had stilled on the bed.

“Well, since you haven’t-” Cade started before Danse interjected, unwilling to let her circumvent the matter.

“Knight Hartt, it is imperative you answer Knight-Captain Cade’s questions truthfully.” He stated in a tone he only hoped came across as firm as intended. Nora had already undermined his authority in front of the doctor the previous night, and should such behavior continue, it was likely to garner the attention of Maxson.

She shot him an annoyed look before turning back to the doctor. “That would be a ‘no’. Sorry, back in my day we used to be a little more private about the topic of one’s sexual proclivities.”

Cade nodded, satisfied with her answer. “What was the last chem you ingested and when was the last dose?”

As relieved as Danse had been at Nora’s confirmation that she had not been ‘intimate’ with any non-human species, he was eager to assuage his own concerns about her chem usage as well.

“A few days ago.” She admitted carefully, refusing to meet Danse’s burning gaze. “I had a migraine after a few too many drinks the night before and the only thing that’s been able to help these days is half a mentat with breakfast. Before that it had been a couple weeks, same situation.”

“Very well. That’s nothing to be too concerned with... for the time being.” Cade answered, marking the response on his clipboard. “I do caution prudence when utilizing such stimulants. They can be highly addictive, you see.”

“Understood, sir.” She answered confidently, still not looking back to meet his critical stare.

Something about Nora’s story gave him pause enough to question it. The words hadn’t seemed deceptive, but it was clear the topic caused her some level of discomfort. By the time he decided whether he wanted to press the matter further, Cade had already moved onto another line of questioning and he thought better of interrupting the man again, not simply for the sake of his own curiosity. He made a mental note to inquire about the matter further at the next opportunity.

Cade finished Nora’s exam, dismissing her to Proctor Quinlan’s office across the hall for her quarter assignment, and turned his attention to Danse whose own medical exam was conducted with an air of brevity. The discourse was a clear formality as Cade blew through the questions, as if already knowing the answers. To be fair, Danse did typically give the same responses each time he returned from a routine mission.

Even so, by the time the exam had concluded and he made his way toward Proctor Quinlan’s office to check on the pair, it was notably empty of both his initiate and Quinlan. It was fairly common for the proctor to get the recruits settled after their arrival on board, and figured that Nora was probably just getting the grand tour of the Prydwen.

Despite his annoyance, he forced himself to accept the matter, making his way toward the bright yellow Power Armor stations that brought him much more comfort than he would ever admit out loud.

_Might as well make use of the time. Nora’s just fine and undoubtedly in Quinlan’s capable hands. There’s no use in intervening here._


	24. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Maybe you'll sit and sigh, wishing that I were near  
> Then maybe you'll ask me to come back again  
> And maybe I'll say, maybe'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the next two chapters typed and ready (because Monster Energy and anxiety is a whole situation) but my dumbass didn't save my four hours of work last night and EVERYTHING deleted itself when my computer crashed  
> 
> 
> Of course I didn't fucking proof read this chapter. Do I look like an adult? (I am, in fact, a grown person, but it doesn't feel like it)
> 
> Uh, if you read the chapters in the first two days I post them I HIGHLY encourage you to reread them because I edit them in the two days after I post them sooo

By the time the eccentric but resourceful Proctor Quinlan had concluded his guided tour, Nora was certain that she had met half the crew of the Prydwen, all of who regarded her with a mixture of skepticism and wonder. She assumed from their critical expressions that gossip about her life before the war had begun to spread among the ranks.

When Senior Scribe Neriah had all but begged her for the opportunity to collect a few vials of blood for her studies, Nora's suspicions were confirmed. Despite her aversion to needles, she did ultimately agree. She couldn’t blame the woman for her enthusiasm and natural curiosity, though if it did make her feel partially like a living science experiment.

At the very least, there were honest-to-God showers, even if they paled in comparison to what she had been accustomed to before her stint in the vault. Watching the two-months of built up grime cascade from her hair in a gray sludge had been a disgusting revelation. Even with her best efforts and the near fortune she had put out for the baths and gravity showers, she clearly hadn't been getting quite as clean as she thought. Most importantly, the Prydwen had actual water pressure. She hadn’t realized quite how much she had missed the luxury, and took her time enjoying it far longer than was considerate, barely registering that the water only got lukewarm at best. 

After changing into one of the black flight uniforms Quinlin had issued to her and drying her hair as best she could without styling tools, she felt almost like the person she was before waking up from the Vault, even if that woman seemed like a distant memory.

Everyone had been polite enough, but Nora found herself missing Danse’s reassuring presence. Despite her short time knowing the guy, there was something comforting about him that she couldn’t quite place. She thought of how she had so easily let her guard down with him after their ArcJet mission, falling into a weird sense of security when he in her vicinity.

_Trust. That’s what trust feels like and Jesus that’s fucking terrifying._

In some respects it felt like she had known Danse her whole life, even if she couldn’t explain why she felt like that. It had been so easy to reach out for him, throwing caution to the wind at the first chance of closeness. A part of her desperately wanting to feel him hold her again, the desire only cut short by wave of guilt overtook her as she thought of her late husband.

_Nate has_ _only_ _been dead for two months._

She forced her eyes closed, shifting uncomfortably from where she sat on the edge of her assigned bunk. As she desperately tried to picture Nate’s easy smile and warm eyes that had always regarded her with far more love than she deserved, all she could see was his terrified expression as Kellogg ripped Shaun from his arms. The cries of his final objections echoed in her mind as the gravity of exactly why she had joined the Brotherhood came crashing back to her. All she could think about was her son, still a baby who needed his mom, disappearing before her very eyes as the cold settled in around her.

The thought of spending a night aboard the Prydwen suddenly felt like torture, laying in bed on a floating deathtrap, a thousand feet above the wasteland where her son was trapped, hidden away inside the Institute. She suddenly felt like the walls were closing in around her and stood, eager to go anywhere other than the quarters she shared with the heavy weight of far too many eyes on her.

The sound of her boots was the only noise she could focus on as she paced the length of the deck, fortunately no longer drawing quite the level of attention she had while donning the vault suit. It wasn’t long before she found herself standing in the Power Armor Repair Bay, which save for Proctor Ingram, was deserted.

“How you doing Nora?” The woman asked, offering a faint smiling as she approached. Ingram appeared to be polishing the chest plate of a newly assembled set of armor.

“Still getting my sea-legs... or air-legs rather.” She admitted, leaning against the tool box and looking around the other stations, which were disappointingly empty. Part of her wondered what perceived imperfection the woman had been polishing, but her thoughts focused on a more pressing matter, drowning out the curiosity. “Have you seen Paladin Danse?”

“He was here a bit ago, said he was turning in early or something.” Ingram answered, polishing the already glistening helmet once more before looking toward her. “Something I could help you with?”

“No... I just, uh,” Nora paused, desperate for any justifiable reason as to why she needed to speak with Danse specifically that wouldn’t rouse suspicion. “I left my pocket knife back at Cambridge and was hoping he found it.” The lie was simple enough, but she was still eager to change the topic, glancing toward the set of armor in admiration. “This a special project of yours?”

Ingram snorted in response, raising her eyebrow at the question. “You don’t know? Now _that’s_ interesting...”

“Ma’am?” Nora offered, suddenly aware of the proctor’s harden gaze on her face. She idly thought that in another life, Ingram would have made a hell of a Sergeant.

“Hmph. Your sponsor _suggested_ that I make some adjustments to you armor.” At the emphasis on her words, Nora felt a heat rise in her cheeks and looked sheepishly at the ground in an attempt to hide her blush. “Paladin Danse expressed concern over the tight fit of the armor, said something about you being claustrophobic?”

She raised her eyes at that, meeting Ingram’s inquisitive gaze. The scrutiny would have made her uncomfortable if she had been able to focus on anything besides the flutter in her chest at the realization that Danse had not only remembered her aversion to wearing Power Armor, given it’s constrictive nature, but _cared_ enough to mention it to Ingram.

Nora let out a small laugh, trying desperately to sound casually appreciative. “Yeah, not a fan of tight, metal spaces. That was nice of him...”

“Can’t remember the last time Danse expressed an interest in a recruit’s armor, if ever, and certainly not to ensure that it was c _omfortable_.” Ingram started, still actively scanning her face for any break in it’s carefully constructed mask. Nora hoped that, save for the redness of her cheeks, her face was well enough composed to pass the proctor’s scrutiny. “Guy damn near began working on her himself when I told him I was planning on reinforcing the chest plate with chromium plating.”

“Oh, is that bad? Sorry, it's been a minute since I studied the Periodic Table.” Nora smarted, hoping to redirect the attention from the topic of Danse’s meddling. 

“Not necessarily. It’s one of the strongest materials we got, and most sets of Knight’s armor are primarily titanium and chromium, unless someone specifically sources the materials themselves.” Ingram explained, eager to elaborate on her knowledge of armor. “Brotherhood Paladin sets typically use a blend of titanium and steel. Some Sentinel sets are pure steel. A very select few have sets reinforced with a tungsten and steel blend, but that’s pretty rare. Takes a blacksmith to get the right ratios, so it gets pricey.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Nora lied, relieved that the topic of the durability of metal seemed to draw the attention away from her and Danse. “So what about this set?”

“Your set here is mostly steel with a few bits of chromium, primarily in the leg plates. I also outfitted this set with two separate releases, makes it easier to get in and out of. The fusion core port is heat-resistant, making it less likely to implode...” The mechanic frowned at the statement, and Nora recalled Knight MacNamara’s horrifically burned flesh after her own fusion core had imploded into her suit. She wondered how many similar injuries Ingram had seen in her time. Ingram quickly cleared her throat before continuing. “I also adjusted the frame so it’d be a bit further away from your body. It’s not much, but it should give a little bit more leeway with your movements.”

“Thank you. I can’t thank you enough, honestly.” The fondness in her chest had seeped into her tone briefly and she caught sight of Ingram’s own expression softening. “I really appreciate all the hard work. She’s a beauty, honestly.”

“Now you’re just bullshitting me.” Ingram joked, but retained her small grin nonetheless. “Want to try her out?”

The thought of getting back into another set of Power Armor, was quite frankly, terrifying, but, she knew she had to get into it sooner rather than latter, particularly if she planned to slip off to search for the mysterious Doctor Virgil in the near-future.

“Of course.” Nora answered, moving to pull the shoulder release to climb inside before her survival instinct could firmly object. As the metal hissed and closed around her, she was hyper-aware of her racing pulse and closed her eyes in anticipation of the intense pressure against her limbs.

After a few nervous moments, she realized the suit had already fully closed around her, but the pressure against her was gentle enough that she almost hadn’t noticed. In reality, it felt even less restrictive that the ballistic vest that had been specifically manufactured from her own measurements, back when she first joined the force.

“Looking good, kid.” Ingram offered with a happy laugh, searching for her eyes behind the visor, which Nora quickly flipped open. “Now, you got one of the best sets I’ve ever made. Don’t go losing it or selling it for scrap, alright?”

“Understood, Proctor. I’ll try to keep my helmet in tact as well for you.” She quipped, her breathing miraculously even as she relaxed into the armor. With a few minor adjustments, Proctor Ingram had made it so that instead of feeling trapped, she felt powerful, and Nora had to admit the feeling was a bit intoxicating. The mechanic just laughed and moved to put away the polishing cloth.

“Hey, go take her for a walk, get the feel of her.” Ingram urged as Nora began moving her arms, amazed that the sensors inside had responded to her movements instinctively. “Neural interface. It senses your movements before you do.”

_Right. As if that’s not terrifying in itself..._

Nora hesitantly moved her leg forward, amazed and baffled at how natural it felt. It was a stark contrast to the restrictive and forced movements with the T-45 set she had detonated back on the Mass Pike Interchange a few weeks prior.

The proctor nodded appreciatively as she maneuvered around the room. “Damn, you’re a natural. Don’t go around showing off too much though.”

“No promises, Kat.” Nora retorted with a small laugh, making a mental note to thank Danse for his part in outfitting the armor for her.

Ingram shrugged and started toward the doorway, a wide grin on her face. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to the mess hall. See you around, Nora.”

Nora offered a small wave as the other woman slipped through the doorway. After a few more minutes of testing the armor, she had the inklings of a very bad idea seeping into her mind. In all truth, she hadn’t anticipated she would receive her armor so quickly. Ingram hadn't even made her officially 'check out' the set like she would have expected.

_Ingram had said it was okay to explore a bit with the armor, and she didn’t say exactly how far it was okay to explore... Besides, half the ship walk_ s _around looking like over-sized tin cans, no one would even notice._

Before reason could reign in her growing mischief, she moved through the doorway and up the hall, walking with all the self-assured confidence she could muster, hoping it imitated her fellow soldiers well enough.

But as she made her way through the ship, no one so much as shot her a second glance, even as she nabbed her rucksack from the shared barracks. The realization that she got less attention dressed as a glorified Transformer than walking around with her face visible was mindbogglingly laughable.

She slipped up to the foredeck with surprising ease and quietly made her way to the deck. The chill in the air was a welcome comfort, the dark sky clearer than it had been in two centuries without all the ambient street lights to obscure the view. Being up so high on such a clear night was a near-religious experience as she noticed the shine of the twinkling stars above.

Nora scanned the deck, half hopeful and half dreading that she would see a familiar face. A blonde head peered up over the back of the pilot’s seat closest to her and she breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone would be willing to bend the rules, Swinton seemed as good a candidate as any. The woman offered her a soft but genuine smile as she approached.

“Miss me already, babe?” Swinton joked, crossing her arms defiantly.

“You have no idea how glad I am it’s you working tonight. Up for a quick trip?” She asked, hoping her tone conveyed enough ease as not to rouse too much scrutiny.

“Are we commandeering a Vertibird tonight? Gotta say, I didn’t peg you for the treacherous sort.” Swinton laughed, raising a surpised eyebrow.

“Think of it more as an impromptu demonstration of your legendary capabilities.” The thought of ‘commandeering’ something from the Brotherhood inspired it’s own sense of panic. No doubt Maxson would hunt her to the ends of the Commonwealth should she try such a thing.

“Now you’re practically flirting...” The woman regarded her with a cautious glance, scanning the area behind them that was, mercifully, empty. “And where exactly is this ‘quick trip’?”

“That depends... How close can you get me to Diamond City?” Nora offered hesitantly, certain she already knew the answer.

Swinton let out an amused snort. “You’re gotta be out of your mind.”

“Shit.” She groaned, running her hand over her face as the pilot regarded her curiously.

“Don’t get me wrong, normally I’d be all for breaking a few rules, but I’m already in hot water as it stands.” The blonde woman explained. “That’s why they got me pulling a double. I _might_ have gotten caught running my mouth in front of the wrong superior earlier...”

Nora’s eyes went wide, an anger growing in her chest as she recalled their earlier mission. “What? Did Danse-”

Swinton laughed and rolled her eyes. “Nah, Kells has been after my ass for weeks about my language. When I told Knight Rhys he was a right prick earlier, Kells found his chance to dish out what he called as some ‘well overdue discipline’. Your boyfriend had nothing to do with it.”

“Excuse me?” She blurted out, scandalized at the implication and almost completely ignoring the nervous tightness in her chest at such an idea. 

“Oh come on. No offense, but your Paladin has a reputation of being a hard-ass. I’ve never seen him so much as address anyone by their first name, much less look at someone the way he looks at you.” Nora balked at the statement, unable to form coherent words as Swinton elaborated further. “That... And Wilson might have mentioned him holding you the other night after you arrived.”

“That, it wasn’t-I almost tripped and fell off the Prydwen.” Nora rambled, the thought of anything improper having occurred was absolutely ludicrous. _Surely it hadn’t been that intimate of an embrace, right?_ “Besides, I’m married, or I was. I don’t know, it doesn’t matter... It’s not like that.”

Swinton stilled at her rebuttal, visibly biting her cheek in response as if stopping herself from saying anything further on the topic. With a shrug she turned around in her seat, flipping numerous toggles. “I can get you to the airport. That work for you?”

“Sure, thanks.” Nora mumbled and moved to harness herself into the Vertibird, grateful that their conversation had come to an abrupt end.

*

Danse could feel the water pressing against him and cold hands grasping at his ankles as he desperately tried to make his way toward the surface. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up in the water, but the tightness in his chest indicated that he was rapidly running out of air. As hard as he fought to escape the frigid grasps on his legs, it was futile. His air was quickly depleting and he opened his mouth, the burn of irradiated water scorching his throat as he tried to scream.

In an instant, he was on the cold, damp floor of a cave, of _that_ cave, quickly looking around for a method of egress.

“D, hey... Look at me man.” The voice rasped, much deeper that it should have been, but Danse recognized it’s timber nonetheless.

“Cutler.” He breathed, turning to find a supermutant behemoth charging toward him. As the force struck him, he caught sight of a crumbled figure in the unmistakable bright blue fabric. Before he could call out, the behemoth had it’s meaty hand around his neck, lifting him up and pressing his back against the wall.

“And here I thought you went and forgot about me, D.” Cutler’s voice stated, coming from the mutated figure before him, a clear tone of hatred marking it’s typical warmth. Danse forced his eyes to meet the behemoth’s, his breath catching in his throat as he caught the familiar pair. There was no mistaking them, thoroughly unusual with their heterochromia and distinct speckled pattern.

He felt the behemoth, Cutler, lift his arm and fling him somewhere. Opening his eyes, he didn’t initially recognize where he was standing. Eventually blinking, his mind filled with recognition as he found himself in a Vertibird. In front of him was Nora, who jerked forward as she unbuckled her harness and tripped, a pained scream escaping her as she fell, toppling out of the aircraft. He lunged toward her, her arm just out of reach as he followed through the opening right behind her.

Danse woke with a start, his ragged breathing the only sound echoing around his room as his eyes slowly adjusted to his environment. He knew it had just been a nightmare, one of many he had grown accustomed to, except that this time, Nora had been prominently featured. A tense panic began growing in his gut as the images replayed in his mind, her crumpled figure and her terrified eyes as she fell out of the Vertibird inspiring nothing short of pure dread.

He quickly pushed himself up from the bed, eager to wash the cold sweat that had soaked his undershirt from his body and the burning images from his memory. Besides, he figured it was best to his the showers early in the morning, when it was less populated and the water was likely to still have some semblance of warmth.

Much to his surprise, upon exiting his quarters, he noted numerous of his brothers and sisters roaming around. A quick glance to a still-functioning clock in the mess hall told him that he actually slept in for once, and much later than he had expected.

_There goes the plan of a warm shower then..._

He figured he at least ought to make quick work of the shower if he had any hope whatsoever to still grab a hot breakfast before meeting with Elder Maxson for their next mission briefing.But, despite his relatively short shower, the kitchen only had mirelurk patties left by the time he returned to the mess hall. Danse briefly considered grabbing a box of Fancy Lad’s instead, but begrudgingly took the patties, forcing them down with what he hoped was a decent display of indifference.

As he made his way toward the Briefing Room, he wondered what sort of mission Maxson had planned for them, hoping it would be something rather elementary. Granted, Nora probably still had the alleged reconnaissance mission down in Glowing Sea he ‘assigned’ to her, so he had to be careful to maintain that cover as well. He thought back to her words when they discussed the fake mission and he’d asked if she’d been down that way.

‘Not yet, no...’

Before he could ruminate further about what she had meant, he found himself outside the Briefing Room. Upon entering, he noted that he and Elder Maxson were the only members in attendance for the briefing. The younger man turned toward him with a calculated gaze as Danse came to attention.

“Paladin. We have important matters to discuss.” Maxson started, meeting his eyes with a gaze far too-tired for his age. “I have received word of a mercenary that appears to be in employment of the Institute... Based on our intel, the man is known to frequent Diamond City and local areas. Given his alleged relationship to our primary objective, his intelligence could be vital to our operation... Also, I must emphasize, it is imperative you conduct this mission with the utmost secrecy.”

“Of course, sir.” Danse assured, surprised by the gravity of the assignment.

_Of course it wouldn’t be something straightforward._

Maxson let out a heavy sigh, either not attempting or not able to feign confidence on the matter. “His name is Conrad Kellogg. I would suggest checking with the locals in Diamond City... Take Knight Hartt with you, she seems to have a way with people.” The elder paused only briefly before offering a curt nod.”I apologize for doubting your intuition, Paladin. It seems Knight Hartt has made an overwhelmingly good impression on the crew thus far.”

“Thank you, Elder.” He answered, wondering who exactly Nora had impressed so significantly that word already made it’s way back to Maxson.

“You’re dismissed... Ad Victorium.” Arthur rushed, turning to the window behind him with a stoic glare.

“Ad Victorium.” Danse offered, turning to leave and locate his recruit without another word.

It was clear Maxson was struggling with his own dilemmas, but an unsupervised Nora was enough of a potential headache that he hadn’t the time to concern himself with whatever had been bothering the man. He caught sight of Ingram watching him and as he returned her glance, she pointed over to the now empty Power Armor station that was closest to her personal one. 

_That Armor Bay that had Nora's Power Armor the night before._

“Hey, Paladin. I was hoping to catch you.” She claimed as he approached where she stood, reorganizing her tools. “Knight Hartt had some great things to say about the armor, so I’ll give you credit where it’s due. She's a natural with it, by the way."

"Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment." He answered proudly, scanning the area in hopes to catch sight of the woman. The thought of Nora being a natural in Power Armor inspired a fluttering in his stomach that he couldn't quite explain. _Probably just the mirelurk patties..._

"Anyway, she was looking for you a while ago, and I wanted to make sure she found her way to you.” Ingram continued, watching him more attentively than he was comfortable with. "You know how the rooks are with finding anything on board."

Danse almost smiled at that, thinking his search for Nora had been easier than anticipated, given her penchant for attracting trouble. “I see. Did she just leave?”

"“No, sorry. She was looking for you last night, said something about leaving her pocket knife down at the Cambridge base?" Ingram frowned, shaking her head. "I guess she got turned around and gave up for the night.”

He stopped, his thoughts coming to a sudden halt, because he was absolutely certain he had seen pocket knife clipped to the collar of her vault suit the previous day. It was were she typically kept it, the black metal obvious against the bright material. “I see. Thank you, Ingram.”

Before allowing her adequate time to respond, Danse turned, near-stomping through the airship with the growing inclination that something was definitely amiss. He knew he had returned Nora’s pocket knife after their first meeting when he gifted her Righteous, and had seen it clipped to her suit every day since then. If she had told Ingram she had left it at Cambridge, it was clear she was up to something.

He wondered if it was her way of trying to send him a message. The last time she had been separated from her knife was the time he had requisitioned it for security measures in Cambridge. It was then that she had first allowed herself to be honest with him, trusting him enough to share her history, making it abundantly clear that finding her son was her only priority. As he entered the lower-decks, a very-tired looking Lancer Swinton rounded the corner with a scowl. Much to his surprise, her harsh glare melted away into a neutral expression as she scanned his face.

“Paladin Danse.” She offered cautiously, squinting her eyes slightly at the bright lights overhead.

“Lancer Swinton...” He responded, trying to decide if asking Swinton if she had seen Nora was worth the risk of drawing attention to her apparent absence. Knowing the pilot, it wasn’t as if she was the sort to go around spreading ill-thought out rumors, and figured it was worth the risk. “Have you per chance, been in contact with Knight Hartt this morning?”

The pilot stilled, looking down at the floor in a near-guilty expression before answering. “Uh, yeah. I think she was headed to the airport to wait for you regarding your next assignment.”

“Listen.” He snapped, her failed deception obvious in her sleep-addled stated. “I don’t care about making an official complaint against you or whatever involvement you have in her unscheduled sabbatical. But, if you refuse to tell me where Knight Hartt has actually gone, I will not hesitate to bring this to the attention of Elder Maxson.”

“Oh? Color me terrified, Paladin.” She mocked, her glare burning a metaphorical hole into his face. “To be clear, the only reason I’m telling you this, is because Nora trusts you and she’s the only asshole on this ship with a sense of humor.” Danse raised his eyebrow impatiently, refusing to answer the tempestuous pilot who sighed in irritation. “Fine, she was headed to Diamond City. I dropped her off down at the airport last night, and that’s my _official_ statement.”

Danse groaned, shooting her a withering glance before stomping back up to the foredeck and making his way toward the Vertibird docking stations. He recalled Nora’s previous statements and wondered where she was actually headed off to. Diamond City would more than likely be a stop, at the very least for supplies and adequate trade opportunities, but he couldn’t imagine her staying for long. Despite it’s expansive population, it was undoubtedly somewhere that she had previously scoured.

Besides, Diamond City _was_ his best lead to finding that mercenary Kellogg that Maxson was so determined to interrogate. He wondered if Nora had instead headed toward the Glowing Sea, given her previous comments, but brushed the idea away, hoping she wouldn’t be so foolish as to expose herself to such dangerous levels of radiation.

To be fair, her Power Armor would protect against such hazards to some degree, at least so long as it sustained minimal damage. He tried to rationalize where Nora was most likely to stop first. She had mentioned the settlement ‘Sanctuary’ numerous times before, but he wasn’t familiar with such a place and would have no idea where to start looking. Given that she had indicated to Swinton that she was actually headed toward Diamond City, he reassured himself that was probably his best bet to try and locate his rogue recruit.

Danse was startled by the severe sting of betrayal that ached in his chest in her absence. It was no secret that Nora was determined to find her son, but he had hoped she would have at least confided in him or trusted him well enough to allow him to accompany her on such a journey. He tried to convince himself that she had probably only got a few hours of a head start and would likely be easy to locate, but the gnawing sense of worry consumed his stomach, half daring the mirelurk patties to reintroduce themselves as his anxiety grew.

*

Nora had been trekking forward through the wasteland for nearly five hours before she admitted to herself that she was beyond hopelessly lost. She had made fairly good work of slipping behind the long shadows of ruined building in the quiet hours of the night, ever aware that her Power Armor negated a majority of her attempts at stealth. Her goal was to make her way toward Diamond City, stopping only long enough to collect a few of the supplies that she hadn’t been able to find on board, and then head straight toward the Glowing Sea. 

Nick had given her a brief overview of what sort of heinous creatures called the area home, and she knew that if she had any hope of making it to this Doctor Virgil in one piece, she wouldn’t be able to do it on her own without anything short of a miracle. She had wanted to ask Danse to come along, but given the severe and possibly fatal radiation levels reported in the area, she hadn’t been willing to risk exposing him to such dangers.

Of everyone she knew, there were only two people who were immune to such radiation, Nick and Hancock. Between the two, she figured convincing Hancock to tag along would be substantially easier. Nick had a business to run after all, and given that Ellie had just gotten him back from Skinny Malone, she couldn’t bear the thought of trying to separate the pair. The decision to ask Hancock to accompany her was precisely how she had got so lost in the first place. Finding Goodneighbor on a good day was hard enough, but adding the limited visibility of darkness and trying to recognize anything through the visor of her helmet made it down-right impossible.

She regarded the crumbling building before her with frustration as she raised her PipBoy, which she firmly thought would be better defined as a glorified radio, in a desperate attempt to make heads or tails of the map. Her last visit in Sanctuary was too brief to allow Sturges to mess with the device to fix the map feature. Despite her own inability to interpret the images, she flipped through the screens impatiently, only pausing ever-so slightly when she noticed a new radio frequency on her screen.

_Trinity Tower Radio. That's a new one._

‘Help! Or mayday! Or whatever it is one says on a radio. My name is Rex Goodman. I'm being held prisoner on the top of Trinity Tower. I think the super mutants plan on eating me soon. I'm setting this to repeat. Oh, shit! Gotta sign off, one of the super mutants is coming!’

Nora heard herself groan at the realization that she would, undoubtedly, be investigating the call for help. As much as she wanted to ignore the plea, turning her back on a citizen in need would compromise her fundamental principles and only further haunt her nightmares. Besides, her moral compass was the only thing keeping her sane and staving off the gnawing guilt at all the people she'd already harmed since coming topside. Sure, they were Raiders who started firing on her first, but they were still people. Investigating the broadcast wasn't something she could refuse. She had a responsibility to the citizens of the Commonwealth, doubly so now, as a Brotherhood Knight.

_Of course it had to be goddamn super mutants._

Out of all the mutated creatures she had the misfortune of encountering, heinous super mutants were her least favorite thus far. They were massive, violent, and never prone to reason or negotiation. Against her better judgment, Nora trekked on toward the once renowned Trinity Tower, looming tall in the distance.

She crouched down, just outside the bottom floor of the decrepit radio station, pulling her rifle forward to aim toward the bulking figures lumbering before her, trying to recall the plethora of sniper tips MacCready had imparted on her during their travels. Fortunately, the three mutants clamoring around the ground floor had offered minimal resistance as she easily picked them off from a distance.

Nora took a quick inventory of her resources, suddenly relieved to have swiped the almost two dozen grenades from Proctor Teagan after the man had black out from downing the bottle of whiskey earlier that night. In another time, she would have felt bad for her thievery, but she wasn’t someone she recognized anymore, and remembering that woman was pointless, really.

Thankfully, the grenades had done the lion’s share of the work in clearing the building, allowing her to get to the top floor without so much as firing more than a dozen shots, trying her best to sneak her way over the collapsed figures as she made her way to the top floor of Trinity Tower.

“FIST EAT TINY HUMAN!”

The mutant, who had apparently identified himself as ‘Fist’ immediately appeared, turning to fire at her. The sound of the minigun echoed around her as she ducked behind a nearby wall. Fist moved closer toward her and began roaring, a wet guttural sound that lacked any resemblance to spoken word. The sudden metallic clicking was her only sign of hope, indicating the minigun had run out of ammunition. She almost allowed herself to relax for a moment before Fist charged toward her, swinging the minigun like a comically oversized baseball bat as he backed her into a corner.

Her gaze was fixed on the raised weapon, tensing as she anticipated the contact, when a loud thunk drew her attention. In an instant, Fist turned and began yelling something indistinguishable toward another mutant behind him, holding a large board. She almost screamed as the other mutant pushed the figure over the railing and toward the ground, some ten stories below. The quiet echo of a thud below, followed by long silence told her that Mr. Fist wouldn’t be making his way back up to join the party anytime soon.

“STRONG HELP PUNY HUMAN.” The mutant grunted turning to look toward her. “HUMAN HELP FRIEND OF STRONG.”

“Uh... sure?” She answered, not fully convinced she was actually free from danger quite yet.

The mutant, Strong, pointed toward a rudimentary cage behind him that housed a nervous, older gentlemen who was waving at her eagerly. “Good day! I assume you heard my radio broadcast. I can’t thank you enough! I’m Rex Goodman!”

“Obviously.” She smarted, before logic could prevent her from refraining, any guise of ‘playing nice’ gone from consideration. The man launched into a monologue about his good natured attempts at ‘rehabilitating’ the mutants, not without reciting a fair amount of Shakespearean quotes in the process, which instantly made her feel like she was back in her high school English class, her attention and patience growing shorter with each bit of literature Rex proclaimed.

When the lift shuttered downward and the remaining super mutants began shooting at them, she actually felt relieved. She was absolutely certain that catching a stray bullet would be less painful than listening to Rex’s outdated prose for a single moment longer.

It wasn’t until they had escaped and were finally fair distance away that she had dared turn toward the unlikely pair she had rescued. Rex looked at her expectantly, a familiar smile of gratitude that she had come to recognize from the various settlers she seemed so duty-bound to help.

“Listen, I don’t want to be rude, but I was on my way somewhere...” She paused, noticing Rex’s lack of weaponry or armor. With a groan, she pulled her pack from inside the dumpster she had stashed it in, revealing a small pistol and rudimentary leather armor. “I’m trying to find my son, or else I would help... I’d help you both.”

“I understand. I would be beyond remiss to stand in between a war-torn mother and her missing child. I appreciate your help, but...” Rex paused, accepting the resources with a small smile. She looked toward the mutant, Strong, who miraculously hadn't shown any inclination of aggression toward her, and instead had likely saved her life.

“You guys need somewhere to go.” It wasn’t a question as much as a statement, and Rex nodded in response, Strong watching them both silently. Without so much as another word, Nora brought the PipBoy toward her mouth, keying up the radio.

“Romeo, are you live?” She asked, hoping that Preston would be awake at the early hour, the sun newly risen over the Commonwealth. The radio buzzed for several long moments before a familiar voice responded.

“Negative, Sierra here. Sturges live and on radio. Romeo is present and listening. Status check?” The voice drawled, friendly and soothing.

“Absolutely code four, Delta. General live. I have two settlers en route. Would you advise the sentries not to open fire on approaching mutants?” She asked, squinting at the pair in front of her. Rex had cocked his head as if trying to understand the pattern of their transmissions.

“Clarification, Romeo. Colonel present.” She almost laughed at the tone of Preston’s voice, somewhere between shock, horror, and exhaustion. “I heard we have supermutants en route. Are your transmissions live?”

“Affirm, Delta. General loud and clear. Two friendlies en route to base, one of which is a super mutant. Advise Mac to ensure no shots are fired first on our side.” She hesitated only long enough to allow her implication to be clear. “Are we understood, Colonel?”

“Confirmed, General. Affirmative, Romeo. Friendlies en route, don’t engage first.” Preston answered firmly.

Nora turned toward Rex and Strong, who mercifully, had not interjected. “Okay. You guys are going to need to be careful, but I can get you someplace safe. Are we on the same page here?”

“As you would say, loud and clear ma’am.” Rex answered with an amused laugh before shooting Strong a stern look. The mutant just nodded in response, looking toward her only breifly, as if sensing her apprehension toward him. 

*

Thankfully, Swinton had been more than willing to drop him off closer to Diamond City than he’d anticipated, given his actual assigned mission in the area. Danse found himself just North of a building which proudly boasted it’s previous designation as ‘Boston Public Library’.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Nora had been there before, studying for the ‘academy’ she had mentioned a few times before or just to indulge in the literature contained within. The thought amused him, imagining her in a room dedicated toward silent study. She was a firecracker, an explosion of passion and insolence and determination. It seemed wrong to imagine her in such a reserved location.

Before he could allow himself to think extensively on such an irrelevant thought, he scanned the area, a faint sound of gunfire echoing in the distance. He though that if Nora was going get herself wrapped up in anything, a gunfight outside of Diamond City would absolutely be it.

Danse started off toward the area, the loud steps of his Power Armor coming into contact against the crumbling asphalt the only sound competing with the growing reverberation of gunshots. Almost too suddenly, the gunshots died off, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps heading away from him.

He rounded a few corners near where he estimated the gunfight to be, exiting an alley way adjacent to a looming skyscraper. As he scanned the area he caught sight of a super mutant emerging from a building, roaring as he noticed Danse and charged directly at him. Instinctively, Danse raised his rifle and fired two quick shots into the creature’s skull, relieved as the beast crumpled.

He made his way North-West toward the outline of interstate in the distance, trying to guess the most likely path one would take toward safety. As he exited the narrow alleyway he had slipped through, Danse felt his breath catch in his throat. In front of him stood Nora, clad in her Power Armor but with her helmet removed, displaying her familiar, empathetic expression as she talked toward her companions.

He would have felt ecstatic, had it not been for the fact that she was accompanied by a nervous-looking older gentleman, and more importantly, a hulking mutant who was extending his hand toward her in a friendly offering. The mutant had no visible weapons, and despite the burning anger Danse felt, his honor couldn’t very well bring him to raise a weapon toward someone unarmed, as much as his palms itched to do just that

Nora offered a polite nod as she released the monstrosity’s hand almost as soon as she had taken it, turning toward the man as she spoke.The mutant reached next to his leg to grab what Danse deduced to be board, lifting it in a defensive position.

“Drop the weapon, mutant!” Danse bellowed the orders, raising his rifle toward the figure instantly. He was suddenly aware of multiple sets of eyes on him, watching the mutant over the sights of his rifle as the creature dropped the board and slowly raised his hands in surrender. Before he could marvel at the gesture of compliance, Nora had positioned herself between him and the beast with an irate expression.

“What the fuck, Danse.” She hissed, shooting a look behind her only briefly as she pushed his rifle down, away from the mutant behind her. “Strong is on our side. Try not to murder my new friends, alright?”

It felt like the breath had been yanked from his lungs, having her refer to the monstrosity behind her as a friend. The thought of a mutant being friends with anyone was absolutely ludicrous and her regarding one as such repulsed him. He wasn’t quite sure how to express the sentiment succinctly, watching her silently as she turned her back to him.

She whispered something to the man, waving the pair away with a polite smile. As the pair disappeared behind a building, Danse could no longer contain the anger that had pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing here, Knight Hartt.” He growled, staring at her wide but determined gaze, mirroring his irritation. Part of him was relieved that she seemed to be angry as well, it made his own reaction easier to justify.

Nora forced a slow breath out, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as he tried to find any logical reason for the scene he had happened upon.

“Why do you hate supermutants so much?” She asked finally, the fire in her eyes muted by her even, controlled tone.

“They’re abominations! I’ve seen what they do to people.” He seethed, disgusted as he thought of how she had willingly taken Strong’s mutated hand into her own, albeit very briefly. “How can you be so ignorant to the clear threat those creatures posed to the safety of humanity?”

“Danse... What’s the real reason you hate them?” Her tone was even and slow, chipping away at his anger with each syllable. He swallowed quickly, removing his helmet to meet her gaze. It was several minutes before he found himself able to articulate anything, the angry images of exactly the sort of destruction he’d seen enacted by mutants assaulting his memory.

“Hate is too gentle a word...” He admitted, watching her sympathetically, discerning eyes as he spoke. “They're responsible for the death of a close friend, a Brotherhood Knight named Cutler...”

He hadn't mentioned Cutler to anyone since his passing and as much as it hurt to disclose his loss, it also felt like a small portion of his burden was lifted by just speaking about it. Nora only nodded, as if she had expected his answer. “I’m sorry, Danse.”

The weight of her apologetic and genuine empathy dissipated any of the residual frustration he harbored toward her. As much as he still hated mutants with every fiber of his being, he forced himself to take a few long breaths, reigning the hatred in. He didn't want his disdain toward the creatures to come across as anger toward her. 

“I am just having a hard time understanding how you could let one of those monsters just walk away.” He stated, working to keep his tone as even as possible.

“I... I got roped into something - Don’t give me that look.” She warned, shooting him an annoyed glance as he felt his face turn into a scowl. “I responded to a mayday at Trinity Tower. The details aren’t important, but, Strong saved my ass back there, I guess. Couldn’t very well go and shoot him in the head for his troubles, could I?”

Danse fought the urge to remark that she very would _could_ have, recognizing that she did actually had a valid point, even if the thought left a sour taste in his mouth. “I suppose not.”

“Listen, I don’t like it any more than you.” She retorted, apparently deducing what he had been thinking. Her perspicacity should annoy him, but if anything, it made it easier to express what he was thinking. He knew talking about what he was feeling wasn’t exactly his forte.

“There’s no use dwelling on it now.” He stated firmly, eager to forget the situation had ever happened at all. “Now, can you explain why you took leave without formal authorization?”

“You know there’s a term for that with a fraction of the syllables, right?” She mused with a small smirk the disappeared from her faces as quickly as it had arrived. If he hadn’t been paying attention, Danse was certain he would have missed it entirely. It wasn’t the first time Nora tried to use humor as a mechanism to break the tension.

“I... am aware of such a term.” He admitted, trying to fight his own amusement. She had a way of absolutely derailing his intended ire with a few jokes and gentle smiles, but he was determined to not allow her to melt his resolve this time. “It seemed flippant to use said terminology for such an egregious infraction. You’re fortunate I was the one who took notice of your absence. Formal charges have been brought up for significantly less.”

Danse watched as his words took effect, any trace of humor draining from Nora’s features, replaced for what he could only categorize as fear. It struck something in his chest to see her regard him in such a manner and he wanted nothing more than to take back the harshness of his words. He didn’t want to be someone she was afraid of, but quite the opposite. He wanted her to trust him and believe that he truly had her best interests at heart. Noting her crestfallen expression, he hastily added. “I don’t mean to be harsh... Nora. It’s just, not to put too fit a point on it, but if we go down, we go down together.”

She looked up at him, anxiously biting her lower lip as she nodded quickly. “I understood. My apologies, sir”

If he could kick his own ass, Danse would have done so right then. As well intended his words had been, it was clear what he meant as support only inspired further stress.

“Nora, I want to emphasize, I’m not angry that you left without advising me before hand.” He offered, hoping that he wasn’t mistaken in elaborating on the topic, or metaphorically ‘digging himself deeper’. “I just wish you could have confided in me.”

Despite his careful tone, the words felt synonymous with ripping out his heart and handing it to her. He wasn’t prone to vulnerability, certainly not with subordinate soldiers, but he would be foolish to maintain the visage that she was just another knight; they were friends. Part of him was subconsciously aware that they were in completely uncharted territory and that the fondness he felt toward her wasn’t just a brief infatuation, but he would take the wrath of Maxson himself before actively admitting such a thing.

“I panicked.” Nora finally answered, the creases in her forehead preaching every indication of guilt. “Please, trust me when I say this. There’s no one I’d rather have by my side, but...”

_But WHAT? By Atom, please finish that sentence._

He felt his stomach drop as he processed her words. She _wanted_ him by her side. Danse desperately fought the urge to demand the remainder of her sentence, watching as her contemplative gaze scanned his face. He tried his best to mimic the compassionate expression he had seen her dispense so frequently.

“Danse, I didn’t want to get you rope into my shit...” Nora looked toward the ground suddenly with a sad laugh. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

The admittance hit him like a ton of bricks. He remembered the time he had imbibed a bit too thoroughly with Cutler and tried to climb to the top of the Citadel watchtower, only to fall and break several ribs. Nora’s revelation hit him harder than that, because she _cared_ about him.

“I would rather be injured by your side than have you make such a journey alone.” He stated confidently, watching as Nora’s expression shifted into something he didn’t recognize but sent a jolt of happiness through him, nonetheless.

“Careful Danse, you might go making an old girl blush saying things like that.” She joked, a pleasant pink shade rising to her cheeks. Danse had never had a favorite color, he had though the idea too frivolous to engage in such discourse, but if someone had asked him in that moment, he would have known; his favorite color was undoubtedly the shade of her cheeks.

He quickly cleared his throat, trying to shake the sentiment from his thoughts. Standing a few hundred yards from a building likely still full of mutants was no place to think about whatever Nora had meant by _that._ “Where are we headed then?”

She stilled, the affectionate smile wiped from her face in an instant. “Well... The person who might be able to help me... he’s in the Glowing Sea.”

“I see.” Danse answered quickly, the thought of trapeezing through such perilous territory was an unwelcome one, to say the least, but there was absolutely no way in Hell he was letting her go alone. _In addition to radiation there will undoubtedly ferals, mutants, and who know what other monstrosities._

“I was going to make a couple stops first, for supplies and stuff.” She offered, tearing him from his analysis of potential dangers in such a region.

The ‘Glowing Sea’ was nothing short of a death wish, regardless of supplies, but he knew better than to convince her of such. Besides, he had already anchored himself to her, no use in fighting it now. “I see. What sort of supplies were you searching for?”

He watched as she shifted in an almost nervous motion. “ I definitely need some Rad-X. Probably a fair bit of stims and purified water. I actually thought about bring John but -”

“John?” The name left his mouth before he could register it, a pang of anger and sadness growing in his chest. Nora had told him she left him behind because it wasn't safe, but she had apparently been planning on bringing along someone else.

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes as she answered. “Hancock? You literally met him a week ago.”

“Oh, I see...” He answered, trying not to think of the pestiferous man she had in her company at Recon Bunker Theta. At the very least it explained why she would invite _John_ instead of him, but the idea of the ghoul accompanying her bothered him nonetheless.

“What is your issue with ghouls? I thought it was just racism, which don’t get me wrong, is totally unacceptable in it’s own regard, but you literally advocated for them to Maxson, so I’ll be frank, I don’t know what to think.” Nora let out a faint, sarcastic laugh, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. 

“I will admit, I am not particularly fond of ghouls. Regardless, they are people, in a way, and deserve the same rights afforded to any other person.” His answer was firm, hoping that she shared similar sentiments; given her previous company, he assumed she did.

Nora was quiet for a long period before speaking. ““It’s okay that you’re uncomfortable around them. But besides a few brief encounters, have you actually tried to get to know any of them?”

“I... I will admit my interacts with ghoulified persons has been limited.” He confessed, suddenly aware of the ignorance in his statement.

He watched as she began to consider his words, frowning only for a nanosecond before controlling her expression. ““Listen, I’m not saying you need to welcome every ghoul you meet with a warm embrace. Quite frankly, I’d be unnerved if you did... I’m just saying, it’s perfectly normal and _expected_ to be wary of anyone outside your particular culture, especially if the other group looks understandably foreign to you. But that doesn’t absolve you of your of the responsibility to try and educate yourself. They were human once, just like you.”

He considered her words, regretting his own lack of experience. “You’re right... It’s foolhardy to make deductions about an entire group based on the experience with a few unsavory members.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it... Besides, Hancock has a way of getting on people’s nerves.” She admitted, thinking of her own initial impression of him. “But, I can promise, despite how he might seem, he’s not a bad guy.”

“I will have to take your word for it...” Danse agreed, uncomfortable with the topic but wanting to display his consideration of her input. “I have half a dozen doses of Rad-Away and a full bottle of Rad-X. Will that be sufficient for our journey?”

“I have, literally, no fucking idea.” She admitted with a sad laugh, forcing a blatantly controlled stoicism to her face. “Danse... You know this is a glorified suicide mission, right?”

He paused, truly taking the time to consider her words and their implications. As he regarded the ground, he thought of his decade of service with the Brotherhood, how he had joined because he was desperately trying to make meaning of his life.

“I’m aware of the risks, but such factors will not dissuade me from providing my support.” He answered finally, absolutely certain in his statement.

“You know, I wouldn’t blame you-” She started, her disbelief blatant in her tone.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He insisted, the thought of her traveling alone was absolutely unacceptable, and her appreciative smile was answer enough for him that he made the right decision. One way or another, they were anchored to each other now, and if they went down, they went down together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to end in the next 18 chapters, but if it doesn't Tracy Chapman songs are replacing Diamond City Radio tracks.


	25. Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Come over baby  
> Whole lot of shakin' goin' on  
> Yes, I said come over baby  
> Baby you can't go wrong  
> We ain't fakin'  
> Whole lot of shakin' goin' on'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind you, there's smut...kindofnotreally.
> 
> Nora doesn't have a nightmare for once.

Nora could feel the chains of exhaustion start to pull at her muscles, the two days of adrenaline and anxiety wholly preventing her from even attempting to get any sleep. How could she allow herself such a luxury when there was an actual, living person with a means of ingress to the Institute hiding out in the Glowing Sea?

Every second that she delayed only decreased her chances of finding this Doctor Virgil alive, given his alleged environment. Despite her dwindling hope and growing fatigue, she felt almost at ease.

Danse had just firmly painted himself in her corner, against whatever better judgment he undoubtedly had, and she would be damned if she was going to make him leave. In the span of a few minutes, she went from feeling all together lost to feeling safe and secure. She was still down right terrified about their impending journey, but now at least she didn’t have to do it alone.

“All right, by all accounts we she be headed south-west.” She started, suddenly aware that Danse was staring at her expectantly. Bringing her arm up and opening the panel to view her PipBoy beneath, she squinted at the screen with a pronounced frown before grumbling to herself. “If only I had any indication which way that was...”

“If you’d like, I should be able to ascertain the correct direction.” Danse answered, looking around the ruined buildings and at the sun overhead. A few seconds later he pointed toward the road behind him. “That would be the direction we ought to start, if your intended goal is to head south-west.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, trying to sound unimpressed despite her relief. Though she was usually able to figure out general directions of things, even without her companions in attendance, she relied on landmarks more than anything.

After making their escape from Trinity Tower, Rex had instructed her on the best route to take. Given the angry supermutants charging behind them, she simply went where he had indicated, foolishly neglecting to pay enough attention to which alleys they had ducked into.

“The Brotherhood trains all their recruits on how to tell direction based on environmental cues alone shortly after their induction. ” He answered, scowling slightly at her skepticism in an expression that amused her to no end.

“Ah. Must have missed that day in class.” She smarted, entertained by the idea of what such 'training' encompassed, picturing a group of rogue recruits wandering around the woods with nothing more than a single compass and map between them.

“Yes... That will tend to happen when you leave without official authorization.” He chastised, replacing his helmet and walking off in the direction which he had indicated.

Nora could feel herself start to roll her eyes in response and fought with every fiber of her being to keep the expression from her face. As much as she was annoyed at the chiding tone, Danse _was_ right. Leaving in the middle of the night without so much as a word of warning was reckless, to say the least. At most, it jeopardized not only her status with the Brotherhood, but Danse’s as well. She cursed herself for her lack of forethought in, what she had thought at the time, was her great escape off the Prydwen.

“So, how did you know where to find me?” She asked after placing her own helmet back on and falling in step besides him.

He hesitated only briefly, the movement nearly imperceptible had she not been anticipating it. “Lancer Swinton eventually divulged your probable location, albeit not without offering a fair amount of derision toward my inquiries.”

Nora could feel herself smile at the description, proud that her new friend had, at least, tried to cover for her disappearance. “That sounds about right.”

“I would caution you as not to mirror her blatant disregard for the chain of command, if your own lack of adherence wasn’t already apparent.” Danse grumbled, shooting her what might have been a harsh glance, had she been able to see his expression behind the helmet.

“Hey, give me a bit of credit. I’ve been tiptoeing around rank for years, I know how to play the game.” She defended, her objections immediately followed by an onslaught of gunfire in their direction. A nearby bullet struck the brick behind her with an echo as she flinched. “SHIT!”

She raised her rifle toward the source, a small group of Raiders hiding inside the office building to their left, and moved to take cover behind a crumbling wall. Before she could return fire, another group leapt out of the building opposite, firing on the Raiders still crouched inside the office. Danse stopped momentarily, observing the apparent turf war before them.

As soon as the latter group caught sight of him they began firing, and he immediately jumped into defensive action. Noting the change in movement, Nora raised her own rifle, shooting the nearest assailant in the chest several times as Danse made quick work of the Raider firing at them from behind the dumpster.

The remainder of the group paused, taking in the sight of the two Power-Armor-clad fighters, bearing the indubitably infamous Brotherhood of Steel insignia on their chest plates. Almost as if sensing the would-be-assailant’s indecision, Danse bellowed toward the figures. “The Brotherhood takes no prisoners!”

Nora almost groaned out loud at the rhetoric, but in an instant the group dispersed, all running in opposite directions as they scrambled away.

Before she could make a sarcastic comment at their sudden disappearance, a crack of thunder broke over head, drawing her attention as a rolling cloud of green approached.

“Looks like an incoming radiation storm. We should take cover until it passes.” Danse stated, turning to face her. “You mentioned a settlement earlier, Goodneighbor. Is it far?”

The thought of Danse walking into Goodneighbor almost made Nora chuckle. As much as he had indicated a willingness to improve his relationship with the ghoul community, she was certain that waltzing him through Goodneighbor would do more harm than good, further cementing his preconceived notions about the hedonistic nature of ghouls. Besides, Hancock had a strict ‘No Brotherhood’ policy, and while she knew she could easily talk her way past the guards, there was no way in Hell they’d let Danse in.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea...” She started, looking up at the clouded sky before scanning the area. Much to her relief, she recognized some of the buildings and was able to finally get her bearings. “Layton Business Center is right over there, so Diamond City shouldn’t be too far. It’s right off the Pike.”

“Uh... I’m sorry?” Danse asked, turning to look at the direction Nora had pointed, indicating two towering buildings connected by an above-ground walk way.

_Shit. Of course Danse isn’t familiar with Boston landmarks. Everything's different now, after all..._

“Just... Trust me. The Pike should be just ahead.” She urged, not wanting to bore him with her knowledge of a pre-war, downtown Boston. given the impending storm.

Without further explanation, she started off toward where she remembered the on-ramp for the now decrepit highway being. If Danse considered objecting to her sudden decision to control their navigation, he made no indication, following behind her silently.

With a loud snap of thunder, a slow drizzle began pouring down from the clouds overhead. She was surprised to notice that the rain managed to soak through the crevices of her Power Armor, even if it was significantly slower than if had she been without such protection, and wondered _exactly_ how well it shielded against radiation.

“It... Must be difficult, seeing the Commonwealth like this.” Danse finally stated as they passed a row of demolished buildings, the drizzle from above now a steady onslaught. Nora’s throat felt tight upon hearing the unspoken words as much as those he had verbalized.

“Yeah... I try not to think about it.” She almost kicked herself as soon as the words left her mouth, afraid it might have come across as dismissive. “But... thank you, Danse, for recognizing that. No one else seems to get how, hmm, _different_ it is now.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught the brief motion of what she could only guess was a nod. “I’d imagine so. Would you like to discuss it?”

As much as it pained her to think about, the longing in her heart to explain how beautiful Boston had been ultimately won out. “I suppose so... That highway over there used to be the Massachusetts Turnpike. I remember my family used to vacation up near Albany and I’d spent hours looking out the window of our Corvega, playing silly road games, like ‘I Spy’... How do I explain it? It’s like, one person names something vague, like ‘I spy, with my little eye, something green’ and everyone would take turns guessing what they were talking about.”

Explaining such a childish game felt trivial in retrospect, and Nora cleared her throat, briefly looking back toward Danse. She was relieved her armor masked her embarrassment, even if every if it did little to shield against the downpour, every inch of her uniform underneath now soaked with irradiated water.

“It sounds like a creative way to pass time.” Danse answered, looking toward the now demolished highway. “This Albany? Is that another city?”

“Yeah, it’s just over the border in New York... Or it was. My dad,” She paused, remembering the last trip they had taken before graduation with a faint smile. “He had really loved to visit these old monuments. His favorite was the USS Slater, it was an old Navy warship used back in World War 2. People used to travel from all over the world to see shit like that, old memorials and warships.”

“I can understand that.” He admitted, which she wholeheartedly believed. If anyone could relate to being compelled to study in old war memorabilia and technology, she figured it was Danse. "Back at the Citadel many of the wings had pre-war tech and literature. I will confess, I was always fascinated with it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” She answered with a laugh, imagining an excited, young Danse studying all the old-world memorabilia he could get his hands on with vigor. The conversation offered a welcome distraction from the aching chill that permeated through the material of her uniform, thoroughly soaked with the frigid rainwater.

“Scribe Haylen explained that this ‘Diamond City’ used to be a sports stadium.” He stated, his tone slightly quicker than it’s usual cautious timber, as if eager to ask her as much as possible about her life before the war given the opportunity.

“Yeah.” Nora thought of Fenway Park, a nervous Nate completely freezing as he tried to figure out what to do when the infamous ‘Kiss Cam’ had landed on them so many years ago. There was something about the memory that felt sacred, and she couldn’t bring herself to divulge the details of the first date she had shared with her late husband. “It’s an old baseball stadium. We went there a lot as kids, most of the time it was on field trips - that’s when schools would bring students on outings, claiming it was educational or something. They had popcorn and hotdogs and ice-cold Nuka Cola. It... It was always fun, even if half the time I couldn’t follow what was happening on the field.”

The diamond symbol marking the surrounding alleyways told her they were quickly approaching the city and there was almost something bittersweet about it. As much as she had tried to acclimate to life in Sanctuary post-war, Diamond City felt much more like her home now. There was an undeniably appeal about the bustle of life and activity in the city that called to her, no longer interested in the peaceful security of her former neighborhood. It didn’t hurt that Nick was there, given that he _was_ the last person alive who even knew Nate.

“It’s about the caliber of your company, not the nature of the excursion.” Danse stated firmly as they passed the guards posted outside Diamond City.

“That’s exactly right.” She answered, relieved that he understood. The response was enlightened in it’s own respect, if not slightly guarded. Nora wondered exactly who he had been thinking of with the comment, and if they had also fallen victim to the dangers of the wasteland, like so many others before them.

She quickly pressed the intercom, relieved when Danny’s voice echoed through the speaker. “State your business in Diamond City, Knight.”

Looking down toward the insignia on her chest plate, she smirked slightly. She briefly thought that whoever had educated the guards about Brotherhood ranks deserved a raise, if such a thing still existed.

“Damn, Sullivan. I thought we were friends here. You mad I got better digs than you now?” She joked, knowing Danny would let her in without issue, even if Piper had apparently broken up with him.

“Ah shit, Nora? Get the fuck in here.” The happy voice answered, as the door groaned to life, lifting almost painfully slow. After the door raised fully, she saw the ginger-haired man walking over to her with a small smile. “And here I thought you abandoned us for Goodneighbor.”

“I would never!” She jested, feigning indignation as the younger man shook his head. It had been too long since she had seen her friend, and was curious as to what he had been up to. “Hey, you good to meet up at the Dugout later? What time are you off?”

“Off at 7, I can be at the Inn around 8?” He offered, raising an eyebrow as he shot a guarded look toward Danse behind her. “If you’re not too busy, that is.”

As much as she wanted to power through and march straight into the Glowing Sea, honest-to-God exhaustion was eating at her muscles and pulling on her bones, further emphasized by the chill of the damp fabric against her skin. She knew that without a few hours of actual rest, she’d be useless to fight off a radroach, much less whatever nightmares lurked down in the irradiated hellscape.

“I’ll see you there at 8, kid.” She answered, shivering as the chill set in at the sudden lack of rain. “It’s what? Like, ten in the morning? That’s plenty of time to get my shit sorted.”

Danny let out a small laugh, apparently deciding to ignore Danse completely. “Alright. Try to stay out of trouble, alright? I don’t want to break up another bar fight tonight -”

“That was _so_ not my fault!” She insisted, looking back at her sponsor with a coy smile. “No one got hurt-”

“You were engaged in a bar fight?” Danse accused suddenly, his disapproving tone blatant.

“Eh, to be fair it wasn’t a real fight.” Danny interjected with a small chuckle. “It was a set-up to help our buddy Travis get a bit of confidence.”

Nora silently thanked the security guard for his explanation, relieved she didn’t have to defend the situation alone. Danse offered a resolved sigh. “I suppose if no one was harmed, there’s no issue... Even if it is _unconventional_.”

“No harm no foul?” She joked, amused at Danse’s begrudging approval, before looking longingly toward the familiar red door across the marketplace. “Anyways, Sullivan. I’ll be at Home Plate if you need me... but please try not to need me for a few hours, alright?”

“Yes ma’am.” Danny answered, offering a small wave before starting off toward his post by the elevator.

Nora could almost sense Danse’s inquisitive gaze on her back and darted away quickly, unwilling to have whatever conversation he was interesting in undertaking at the moment. The subtle thud of armored boots behind her was the only indication he had followed her, the sound a welcome comfort as she unlocked the door of Home Plate and slipped inside.

“You live here?” He asked near instantly as he followed her inside, scanning the area slowly.

“Sometimes...” She responded, walking toward the ‘storage’ area and exiting her armor, frowning at the sopping wet fabric thoroughly enveloping her limbs. “It’s a long story.”

Danse silently mirrored her, stepping out of his own Power Armor and examining his own soaked uniform with a pronounced frown. He began slowly removing the supplies stashed within the frame, laying them out on the table behind him without so much as another word.

She wondered if her tone had been harsher than she'd intended, not wanting to discourage him from his questions. “I worked out a deal with the mayor a few weeks back. The important thing is it’s safe here, so you can relax.”

“I see... It does appear fairly secure, so I will trust your analysis.” He answered finally, watching as she shivered, her drenched uniform clinging uncomfortably against her skin. “Is there a shower nearby you can utilize?”

Nora let out a small laugh at the his characteristic verbose speech, nodding quickly. “Yeah. I have one upstairs and one in the garage... That’s, uh, the corner over there. There should be some clothes in the dresser upstairs, if you want to get cleaned up.”

He looked at her briefly before turning away. “I appreciate that, thank you.”

“I’ll be upstairs...” She offered, eager to be free of her damp clothing and not willing to entertain Danse’s apparent irritation. Without offering him a chance to interject, she trekked up the stairs, stopping at the dresser only long enough to snatch one of the spare Vault 111 suits Preston had collected for her, before heading up to the shower on the roof.

As the water caressed her shoulders, she marveled that how in the last two days she had showered twice, even if the gravity shower was meager compared to one aboard the Prydwen. The soap she had managed to sneak out from Fallon’s made her feel almost like a person, the faint scent of lavender and vanilla clinging to her skin.

_This is what civilization feels like._

She dried herself and dressed quickly, toweling her hair off only briefly before pulling the still-damp locks back from her face. Her footsteps were near-silent as she made her way downstairs. Once back on the ground floor, she removed a tall glass from the cabinet and poured out a liberal serving of bourbon into it before turning to her ‘pantry’, which was really just a glorified metal cabinet with food and drink items.

After mixing a decent amount of Nuka Cola with the bourbon, Nora moved to the couch, closing her eyes as she sipped the sweet cocktail. The liquid hit her stomach instantly, a comforting warmth spreading through her body. After the chill of the rain and unheated shower, it was a welcome sensation.

Scanning the bookcase across the room, she wondered idly if Cait had ‘borrowed’ all her good magazines, taking note of the now empty section next to her requisitioned copy of Massachusetts Criminal Law and Procedure. With an annoyed groan, she moved forward to grab the particularly boring issue of ‘Picket Fences’ from the coffee table right as she heard footsteps approaching. She froze, almost forgetting that she wasn’t alone as Danse rounded the corner.

She quickly noticed that he too had showered, changing into a surprisingly well preserved set of Army fatigues she had picked up from the National Guard training yard a couple weeks back, when she and Hancock had been searching for Shelley. As flattering as the uniform was on Danse, fitting snugly along his broad shoulders and emphasizing his muscular form, it was his lack of head covering that drew her immediate attention.

Any semblance of conversation dissipated as she gawked at him, mesmerized by the damp black locks of hair she hadn’t anticipated, her stomach stirring in a away that was thoroughly indecent.

“I apologize... Is there something wrong?” He asked suddenly, appearing to take note of her shocked expression.

With a start, Nora jerked forward, almost spilling her drink in the process. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I guess I didn’t think you had hair...”

“You thought I was bald?” He asked with a frown, bringing his hand to said hair almost self-consciously.

“Yes- I mean no. Shit, sorry.” She let out a nervous laugh, hoping the heat in her cheeks could be attributed to the drink instead of her severe embarrassment. “I guess I thought you kept it buzzed short like Rhys and Cade.”

Danse paused only briefly before turning to the cabinet covered in liquor bottles. “Is this... For consumption?”

_No, it’s for decoration, genius._

“Yeah, of course.” She replied, watching as Danse removed a glass from the counter and poured a fair amount of whiskey into the cup without another word.

At least she didn’t have to worry about him chastising her day drinking, she thought, tipping back a decadent gulp of her own cocktail. She quickly grabbed the magazine from the table, flipping it open to a random page, desperately trying to distract herself from the sight of Danse standing in her make-shift kitchen, his still damp hair glistening in the rudimentary lighting.

It wasn’t until he seated himself in the chair adjacent to her that Nora dared to look back up at him, a small smile teasing at her lips as she got a better look at the tresses that had caused her such a shock.

Danse followed her gaze immediately, sighing as he took a small sip of his whiskey. “I will admit, it is a bit longer than regulation typically dictates, and given your apparent shock, it may be time to cut it-”

“No.” She blurted, the words escaping before she could reign them in. Clearing her throat, she attempted to explain the outburst. “It’s _nice_ , Danse. You have nice hair.” Trying to ignore the surprised gaze and her near-reeling at the resulting embarrassment of the confession, she quickly tried to backpedal. ”That’s all I’m saying... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“You didn’t.” He reassured, a gentle amusement in his tone that she didn't have the wherewithal to analyze. 

As she looked up, Nora’s breath caught in her throat because Danse was looking at her with what she could only categorize as _something fascinating_ buried deep in the warm pools of brown. It was a look that both enticed and terrified her in the same regard, one that she desperately wanted to entertain.

Her gaze was locked with his for several moments longer, the air fizzling with something damn-near electric when the door swung open, striking the wall with a resounding bang.

Almost instinctively, Nora stretched her arm in front of Danse who had tensed, and she estimated was only seconds away from standing, letting out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding when the familiar mop of red hair registered with her.

“I wondered when ya were plannin’ on stoppin’ by again. Yer a difficult lass to keep track of, darlin’.” Cait shot her a wry smile, her gaze falling on Danse. “I wasn’t interruptin’ nothin’ now, was I?”

“No, Cait.” Nora answered, quickly yanking her arm back and downing the remainder of her drink. “We were just drinking.”

“And ya didn’t think to invite me? Yer breakin’ me heart here.” The redhead responded, her perceptive eyes still fixed on Danse, whose face was once again constructed carefully into a neutral indifference. “This ‘ere must be yer Paladin Dense.”

“Paladin _Danse_.” Nora interjected quickly, eager to stave off any potential battle of egos for the time being.

“Must’ve misheard it. ‘Ere I thought Hancock ‘ad said it was Dense.” Cait jested with a small laugh before moving to the liquor cabinet.

“I’m sure he did...” She mumbled, shooting Danse an apologetic smile. As the feisty fighter reemerged, two ceramic mugs in hand, Nora rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure when I gave Piper the spare key ‘for emergencies’ it didn’t include raiding my magazine collection or liquor cabinet.”

“Blue!” The reporter bellowed as she moved through the door, flopping down next to Nora instantly. “Listen, I have a perfectly good explanation.”

Cait moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, handing one of the mugs to Piper with a wink that caused the reporter to turn an amusing shade of pink as she took a drink, turning her attention to Danse with a start. “Who’s your friend here?”

“ ‘e’s the Brotherhood bloke Hancock was bitchin’ about .” Cait interjected before Nora could form a coherent sentence, her exhaustion further exasperated by the surprise appearance of her friends.

_Friends who had sacrificed life and limb to help, let’s not forget..._

“Cait!” Piper gasped, offering Danse a sympathetic smile as the redhead just shrugged in response. “Sorry about that... Pleased to meet you. Paladin Danse, right?”

“Danse, this is Piper and Cait.” Nora quickly interrupted, pointing to each woman she introduced the pair, the thought of her friends further interacting with Danse inspiring an all encompassing sense of dread.

“I’m pleased to meet you both.” Danse answered politely, the distinctive tone of professionalism the only indication of his actual discomfort. Nora could feel herself relaxing marginally at the statement, suddenly deciding she was far too tired and much too sober for the situation unfolding in front of her.

Without another word, she pushed herself up from the couch, carefully maneuvering around the plethora of legs sprawled out across her living room floor, glass in hand. She had almost completely drowned out the awkward pleasantries being exchanged in the adjacent room by the time she had replenished her drink and returned to her friends.

“Jesus Blue, you look like shit.” Piper blurted, frowning as she scanned her face.

“Eh, Ree, go easy on the lass.” Cait grumbled, downing the last of her drink and placing the mug on the side table.

“Sorry... But seriously? When was the last time you slept?” The report insisted, narrowing her eyes as she watching Nora run a weary hand down her face.

“It... May have been a couple days.” She admitted, shooting a quick look toward Danse who remained silently watchful of the exchange.

“Rígain ‘ere might’ve a point, you look like shite.” Cait agreed, moving to stand and extending her hand toward Piper who happily accepted it, the women seeming to recognize that their brief visit had already overstayed their welcome, at least for the time being.

“To be fair, I was trying to grab a quick nap before _someone_ barged in.” Nora defended, placing her drink on the counter behind her and crossing her arms. “I told Sullivan not to tell anyone I was back yet.”

“You saw Danny?” Piper asked, freezing at the mention of her former paramour.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to meet him later at the Dugout... Are you guys not speaking?” She asked coyly as if unaware of the couple’s apparent separation, watching Cait shift uncomfortably in the corner.

“I...” The reporter paused, looking to Cait briefly before turning back to Nora. “It’s a long story... Come and see me before you talk to him, okay?”

“Sure, Pipes.” She reassured, her friends discomfort as clear as day. “How’s 7?”

Piper offered her a small smile, nodding as she answer. “See you then, Blue.”

Nora offered a quick wave in response, moving to reclaim her drink as the women exited Home Plate, locking the door behind them as the latched clicked She was hyper-aware of Danse’s curious gaze on her as she moved to the couch once more.

“They were quite... interesting.” He offered several minutes later, finishing his drink and placing the empty glass on the nightstand doubling as a side table.

“Yeah... I love them, but they’re fucking exhausting.” She admitted, shaking her head in response. Danse didn’t answer for an extended period, watching her carefully as she finished the last of her drink, an undoubtedly distant look in her eyes.

“Has it really been two days since you slept?” As much as she had expected disapproval, his tone was surprisingly sympathetic.

“It... It’s hard to sleep much any more.” The words hung in the air like a guilty admittance as she closed her eyes in response.

“I believe I understand.” He reassured, offering her his hand as he moved to stand. “Regardless, I should let you get some rest. I have some armor repairs I’ve been meaning to work on and this would be an opportune time to undertake such extensive work.”

Nora faintly considered objecting that she was fine, but her better judgment won out and she took his hand, rising with a groan. “Shit I’m getting old.” She muttered, suddenly aware of Danse’s small smirk, appearing to consider exact _how_ old she really was, as he released her hand. “Hey, wake me by... six I guess?”

She pointed toward the clock in the corner, only registering his curt nod, before trudging up the stairs and collapsing on the bed with a sigh. The sweet haze of bourbon quickly overtook her, accompanying her into a sweet slumber.

*

Nora slowly blinked awake, the sudden dip in the mattress the only indication of movement beyond her own. She focused on the figure sitting across from her, an amused smile teasing at his lips as he watched she slowly woke, the dark room casting dramatic shadows against his features.

“Danse.” She stated, aware that he was still dressed in the military fatigues, his hair blessedly damp as he scanned her face slowly, sporting _that_ same expression of what she could only categorize as fondness, of all things.

“You have nice hair too, you know...” He mumbled, raising his palm to caress her face as he spoke, tucking a stray strand behind her ear as he regarded her tenderly.

Almost instinctively, she leaned into the movement, gently raising her hand to grasp his wrist, her breath catching in her throat. Without allowing herself to think, she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his own. The movement was almost hesitant, as she thoroughly expected him to pull away. Much to her surprise, he reciprocated, returning the kiss with an unexpected, but familiar vigor.

_Why does this feel familiar?_

Before she could truly register what was happening, she felt Danse’s lips working against the tender skin of her neck, slipping a soft hand under the hem of her shirt, gripping her hip firmly.

_How are his hands so damn soft?_ _Where’s my damn Vault suit?_

“You look amazing tonight...” He whispered, kissing behind her ear as she gasped, arching forward against him, suddenly clinging onto his bicep.

She could feel him pulling her shirt over her head, trailing confident kisses along her stomach, miraculously unmarked by the familiar silver scars she’d come to recognize. Before she could entertain her curiosity at their sudden disappearance, her hands moved forward, running her fingers through the black locks and lightly gripping the strands as Danse peppered kisses along her hips.

Part of her was aware that something was definitely _not right_ about the whole situation, but the warning voice in her head was replaced by the familiar feeling of affectionate kisses against her skin, the nimble fingers slipping under the band of her underwear, bringing the offending article over her hips and tossing the fabric away from the bed without so much as a second thought.

She could feel the soft lips now gently kissing her knee, seductive and slow as they made their way up along the expanse of her thigh.

_It was so much like her wedding night when Nate -_

_*_

Nora woke with a jolt, pushing the firm, calloused hands away from her as she panted hopelessly, trying to slow her rapid breathing.

“Nora.” The worried voice urged, strong hand moving back to hold her shoulders in place as she thrashed. “Nora!”

She looked around in a panic, suddenly aware that she was back at Home Plate, the flashes of her dream rapidly fading from memory. The reassuring pressure against her shoulders was the only thing grounding her to reality as she tried to ignore the wave of guilt that struck her like a baseball bat to the chest.

_No time for that now..._

Almost too quickly, she realized it _was_ actually Danse gripping her shoulders and sitting on the edge of her bed, conflicted over the realization that it not the romanticized dream version of him, the man she had felt move so confidently against her skin.

The scene was shockingly similar to her dream, but so significantly different, because it wasn’t the Carlton and it wasn’t her wedding night _and it wasn’t Nate_.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, pushing Danse’s hands away once more, their disappearance both a relief and a burden. Clearing her throat, she looked around the room, notably darker than it had been earlier, shadows stark against her floor.

Danse quickly stood, the brief frown disappearing from his face as he watched her. “You indicated you wanted to be awoken at six in the evening, correct?”

She blinked several more times before answering, her breathing slowly returning to it’s normal pace as she rubbed the sleep granules from the corner of her eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

“I... I will be downstairs.” He stated, his uncertain tone drawing her attention. Without thinking, she reached forward, gently placing her hand on his forearm.

“Thanks for waking me, Danse." The words felt heavy against her tongue, but she continued, trying to lighten the weight in the air. "Are you hungry? We can grab some food before we go see Piper.”

He hesitated only briefly before nodding. “I wouldn’t object to dinner.”

Nora desperately tried to shake the image of having an actual bonafide dinner with Danse, the intimate notion prickling at her consciousness in conjunction with the more explicit details of her dream, that she was hopelessly trying to ignore. Thankfully, Danse had turned his back to her and quietly disappeared down the stairs, appearing to interpret her confusion as nothing more than sleep-induced delusion.

Pushing back the guilty feeling gnawing in her gut, she stood, trying to compose herself in the small room before reemerging. After a few minutes of attempting to groom herself with her severely deficit collection of toiletries, she figured she looked about as decent as a wastelander could, considering, and slowly made her way to the ground floor.

Danse had apparently claimed her workbench, disassembling several of the pieces of junk she had been collecting over the past couple months, piling the various pieces of copper in the corner nearest to her. He had broken the items he had once deemed as useless down to their valuable parts.

“You mentioned that you had been meaning to strip the copper wiring from some of the pieces you _insisted_ on collecting.” He stated suddenly, as a means of explanation, a slightly defensive tone in his voice.

The sight was an amusing one to say the least; Danse surrounded by miscellaneous entrails of useless junk, deconstructed and organized by their inherent value in the wasteland. He bore a look of self-conscious doubt as he followed her gaze to the pile of scrap metal in the corner.

“You were _bored_.” She laughed, shaking her head at the idea of him mulling around, looking for anything seemingly meaningful to do while she slept. There was something comforting about the idea of Danse stomping around her place trying to entertain himself while he ‘kept watch’ during her slumber.

“I may have finished the repairs earlier than anticipated...” He answered with a frown, looking at the sets of armor in the corner as her heart surged into something she _didn't want_ to consider.. 

“You could have explored the city, you know.” The suggestion was almost comical, and she imaged him engaging in titillating discourse over Myrna’s ‘no synth’ policy. Nora would easily pay a thousand caps to see Danse’s face should Myrna accuse him of being a synth, given his severe hatred toward them. She thanked the heavens that Nick hadn’t been a member of their earlier impromptu greeting party, not wanting to have to literally place herself between the two men as they acclimated to each other.

He wavered briefly, as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. “I did not want to leave you unsupervised.”

“Unsupervised? I’m not a child, Danse. I’ve survived two centuries so far without incident.” She retorted, cocking her head defiantly.

_Besides being cryogenically frozen, shot at, and stabbed, but_ _..._ _whatever._

“I... I only meant-” He defended, a panicked expression creasing his normally composed stoicism. As much as she enjoyed riling him up, Nora didn’t want to cause him too much distress, and quickly relented.

“I’m just giving you a hard time.” She reassured with a chuckle, shaking her head as she moved to the front door. “I appreciate you looking out for me, honest.”

Danse followed her out the door without another word, scanning the impressive and creative construction of the marketplace around them. Nora half smirked when she saw the familiar curls of brown hair seated at Takahashi’s, accompanied by an identical, smaller mop of hair.

She quickly slid next to Piper, offering Nat a small wave in the process. “Fancy meeting you two here.”

“That’s almost as bad as Mac asking if I ‘come here often’.” Piper quipped, turning toward her with a smile.

Nora let out a faint laugh, trying to imagine MacCready flirting with Piper, only to be quickly ‘reminded’ by Cait that she was more than spoken for. “I’m sure your beloved wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“You-You know about that?” Piper blurted, scanning her face cautiously. “Did Danny tell you?”

“Nah, he didn’t say anything about it. Mac mentioned it a couple weeks ago when I was up in Sanctuary.” Nora waved her hand, dismissing the concern. Her gaze briefly landed on Danse who glared at Takahashi cautiously as he took his seat besides her. “I’m happy for you, Pipes.”

The younger woman bit her lip nervously, looking back at Nat who was watched Myrna and Arturo argue behind them with rapt interest. “You are?”

“Of course I am.” She reassured, gently placing her hand over Piper’s forearm. “I’m happy for you both. You’re my friends and I’d do anything for you two... Well, except make you guys any more of those Brobov’s mojitos...”

“Oh come on, Blue. They weren’t that bad-” Piper defended as she rolled her eyes.

“I woke up in a Diamond City jail cell, Piper!” Nora countered, trying to remembering the specific circumstances of the night.

“You _what?_ ” Danse interjected, a look of horror on his face as he stared at the women, Piper fighting to stifle a giggle in the process.

“Blue here got a bit too inebriated, so we decided to play a little prank on her.” Piper explained, her words cut between the barely contained laughter. “First of all, she absolutely deserved it after she covered every surface of the Publick with copies of the Boston Bugle. So, we got Danny, he’s a guard with the city, to clear out one of the jail cells, make sure it's safe and everything... We figured it’d be ironic, given that Nora used to put people in jail and whatnot.” Nora could feel herself shaking with laughter, recalling the confusion she felt on finding herself stretched out against the unforgiving metal bench in the cell as Piper continued sharing the story. “So, we convinced her that Cait had gotten in a fight and needed to be bailed out, not that it took much convincing, and once we got her there, Danny told her to sit tight on the bench while he processed the paperwork. She didn’t even realize that he led her into the cell. It wasn’t long until she got tired of waiting and fell asleep.”

As the reporter revealed her elaborate ruse, Nora shot a worried glance to Danse, fully expecting his steadfast disapproval. When she noticed his shy smirk, she nearly collapsed from shock.

“I can only imagine how livid she was upon waking.” Danse offered as Piper’s nodded smugly.

“You’re supposed to be on my side here!” Nora half-complained, annoyed that Danse chose that moment, of all times, to approve of such childish antics.

“It sounds like you learned a valuable lesson about these... ‘mojitos’ you imbibed on.” He asserted, relaxing marginally as he scanned her indignant expression and recognized it's feigned construction.

“She was so mad at us.” The younger woman confirmed, letting out a happy laugh at Danse’s support of their hijinks.

“You guys are fucking assholes. I’m still plotting to get you two back, especially Cait...” Nora insisted with a laugh, pretending to glare at Piper who just returned to her noodles.

“Good luck out-drinking her.” She answered with a shrug, sipping a spoonful of broth. “Oh! You should try the spicy noodles. Takahashi added them last week, they have jalapeños.”

“Where the hell did he get jalapeños?” Nora demanded, incredulous the authenticity of the alleged produce, but sliding a pile of caps across the counter and raising two fingers to indicate her desired quantity, regardless. 

“We had a new trader come through, part of some new caravan out west... Shit what were they called.” Piper muttered, her eyebrows drawn together in thought.

“Courier Caravans.” Nat interjected, having lost interested in the previous argument between the two merchants, and had now focused on the trio’s banter. “The couple was only here for a couple nigts before they left for Goodneighbor.”

“Well aren’t you a junior investigative reporter, Nat. Good work!” Nora praised, noting her friend’s proud smile as Nat beamed at the compliment. Danse only raised his eyebrow, watching the exchange curiously.

“Piper taught me to be _really_ sneaky so I can overhear things and report back to her.” The younger Wright volunteered, a mischievous smirk that rivaled Piper’s own.

“That’s right, kiddo. Nothing happens around here without us knowing about it!” Piper proclaimed, elbowing Nat’s arm affectionately as Takahashi placed two bowls on the counter. Nora silently slid one of the bowls toward Danse, smiling as he took it eagerly.

“Are you really so thoroughly abridged of the happenings in the city?” He asked suddenly, looking toward Piper expectantly.

“Pretty much.” The report answered, watching him carefully. “Why? The Brotherhood looking for some intel?”

Nora turned to Danse, surprised at his sudden curiosity. He narrowed his eyes briefly, shooting her a glance before focusing back to Piper. “Does the name Kellogg bear any meaning for you?”

The sound of the crowded market place faded away, the echoes of Nora's heart beating in her ears, speeding up exponentially at the mention of the name. There was no conceivable reason that Danse should have any business with the old, grizzled mercenary and to hear that he was searching for the very man who had destroyed her life in nothing more than an instant eviscerated her with alarming momentum.

Piper’s quick breath, drew her back into the moment, time still weaving itself far too slow around her. Nora was aware of her vice grip on the spoon in her hand, physically unable to unclench her fist and release the innocent piece of cutlery.

“Nat, I think you should be heading back. It’s almost your bedtime-” Piper started, clearing her throat as she rushed to stand.

“No it’s not-” The objection was cut short by the elder Wright’s insistent glare. “Bye Nora! Come by the Publick later to read our new issue, okay?”

Piper quickly ushered Nat away, turning and attempting to meet Nora’s eyes, which remained fixed on Nat’s retreating figure in the distance. “Blue-”

“Kellogg is dead.” She suddenly blurted, the tension having built to an uncomfortable, oppressive weight around her.

The resulting silence was the only confirmation that her confession had been heard, neither of her companions willing to interject. Even Takahashi had turned toward them, though to be fair he was probably just trying to see if there was a complaint about his noodles.

Danse’s heavy gaze was burning a metaphorical hole in her cheek, but she couldn’t bring herself to return it, not until she was absolutely certain she could look at him without bursting into furious ears.

Besides her, she heard Piper suck in a quick breath, shifting on the balls of her feet as she looked between them. The sound was just enough of an anchor, allowing Nora to regain a modicum of her composure to elaborate further. “I killed him myself... I don’t know what the Brotherhood wanted with him, but they’re sure as hell not going to get it now.”

“Kellogg... This is the man who took your son?” Danse asked slowly, as if measuring exactly which words were least likely to trigger an outburst as he constructed the sentence. Nora closed her eyes at the mention of Shaun, swallowing quickly as she felt Piper move to wrap her arms around her shoulders briefly.

“Oh Nora, I’m so sorry.” Piper gushed, releasing her with a pitying gaze.

_Get it together, the noodle stand is not an appropriate place to have a mental fucking break down._

“It’s fine... Thanks Pipes.” She stated, repressing the screaming thoughts back into the metaphorical box that had become their home. Forcing a smile to her face, she cleared her throat. “Guess the mission was easier than we thought, huh? Some crazy bitch already killed the Brotherhood’s best lead. Maxson will be de- _fucking_ -lighted with me.”

Piper looked at her warily, too curious to turn away and slip back to the Publick, but clearly uncomfortable nonetheless. Nora was suddenly aware of a few of the other patrons who were now staring at her, mouths agape. Their conversation had apparently not been as private as she’d thought, and the realization that she had caused an unintended scene inspired a coil of anger to form, tightening in her stomach.

Danse quickly placed his hand on her forearm and she spun turn him at the contact, her eyes defiant. “Perhaps it would preferable to discuss such matters in a more discreet locale?” He offered, scowling at the onlookers who quickly bustled away under the withering gaze.

She was determined to be obstinate, briefly considering standing on the counter and confessing her sins to the entire populace, but when her angry glare met Danse’s sympathetic understanding, she relented. As much as his perspicacity grated on her patience at times, it was clear that he appropriately balanced out her fury in the moment, reigning her in like no one had been able to do since Nate. The revelation would have been revolutionary, had it not been drowned out by her barely contained rage.

Nora allowed herself to be silently led back to Home Plate, Piper in tow behind them as she tried to balance the two bowls of noodles with a confident assurance to Takahashi that, yes, they would absolutely return the dishes later that night.

One the trio had settled into the living room, the bowls of noodles growing cold as they sat undisturbed on the table, Nora allowed herself to breath freely, no longer feeling like the town’s sole source of entertainment for the night.

“I apologize for my earlier indiscretion. Had I realize-” Danse started, frowning as he stared at her desolate expression.

“It’s fine.” She interrupted, unwilling to entertain his implication that he was somehow at fault. “You didn’t know, and that’s my fault. I never told you who he was, not explicitly.”

_It’s easier not to say his name._

“Regardless, I should have discussed the mission parameters in private.” He insisted, looking toward the reporter only briefly as her presence held an air of non-negotiability.

Nora slowly picked the specks of lint off the leg of her vault suit with a shrug. “It’s not a secret, not really. What did Maxson want with him?”

“Given his association with the Institute, Elder Maxson was hopeful he would be a source of information regarding their location.” Danse answered near-robotically, as if reciting a deeply ingrained sermon.

“I should have figured.” Nora mumbled, shaking her head with an angry laugh. “It’s really fucking ironic, is what it is.” A hysterical laugh escaped her throat at the realization. “This whole time I was doing exactly what the Brotherhood wanted.”

“What do you mean?” Piper urged, looking between the pair with apparent irritation at being the only person out of 'the loop'.

“What I mean is, that the entire time I’ve been trying to find Shaun, I’ve been unknowingly trying to find a lead into the Institute.” A sad sob left her mouth at the ridiculousness of the situation. “And I found one. Piper. _I found one._ ”

“How!” The reported demanded, moving to stand quickly. “Who? What?!”

“A rogue scientist.” Nora explained, focusing on anything by the heavy gaze of her friend's concern. “He’s hiding out in the Glowing Sea, so I’m going to find him.”

“Jesus, Blue!” Piper exclaimed angrily. “The radiation down there is toxic. You _can’t_ go down there, you’ll die within an hour!”

“I don’t _care_ , Piper. I don’t f _ucking_ care about... about any of it.” She snapped, furious at the implication that her life was worth more than her son's, even if it was unintentional.

Piper spun, turning her rage to Danse who had been mercifully quiet. “How can you let her do this? You might as well sign her fucking death warrant while you’re at it!”

“If you truly think I have the ability to sway her from such a decision, you surely don’t know her as well as I think you do.” He mumbled, a hint of dejection marking his solemn words.

Piper crossed her arms at that, turning back to her with a scowl. Nora looked up to her friend, pleading with her to understand. “What if it was Nat?”

Her words had their intended effect, and she watched as the report’s angry expression crumbled into hopelessness. For once, the mouthy young woman had nothing to say, moving to flop back onto the couch next to her. It was several moments before anyone spoke, the reality of the insurmountable odds ever apparent.

“Nick is going to hate this.” Piper mumbled, leaning her head back.

_Nick would get laid out on his shiny-metal ass if he tried to stop us and he knows it..._

“Well, Nick’s not here, is he?” Nora smarted, missing her old friend’s characteristic realism, despite the claims.

“Nick?” Danse asked, suddenly interested in their exchange.

Nora paused, considering how much she should divulge. There never was a really good time to have the ‘my oldest friend’s consciousness was transferred into a synthetic body sometimes between now and two hundred years ago’ conversation. “An old friend... Very old.”

“Nicky’s good people.” Piper reassured, appearing to pick up on her friends hesitance to expose the detective’s synthetic background. “Saved my life more than a few times.

Danse nodded, as if understanding the women. “I see. Regardless of his perceived disapproval, I assure you, the Brotherhood of Steel’s Power Armor is designed to be resistant to radiation damage...”

“I’ve heard all about the Brotherhood, and none of it’s good.” Piper answered quickly as Nora tried to silence her groan.

“I assure you, no harm will come to Nora, given our intended terrain... ” Danse insisted, appearing to have an unspoken conversation with Piper that Nora was, quite rudely she thought, not invited to partake in."Mind you, I make such a claim at the expense of my own well being."

Ultimately, Piper forfeited, moving to finally stand with a sad frown as she regarded the pair seated in front of her. “I hope... I hope that I’ll see you again... See you both.”

Without another word the woman moved out the door, the resounding thud the only indication that she had been there at all.


	26. Orange Colored Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'One look and I yelled timber  
> Watch out for flying glass  
> 'Cause the ceiling fell in and the bottom fell out  
> I went into a spin and I started to shout'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter actually? It was fun. 
> 
> That being said, there are some not-fun parts :( . I do want to remind everyone before reading of the Trigger Warnings!!
> 
> All of the following are discussed kinda at length, but they are mentioned so please be cognizant of such and read responsibility. If you message or comment directly I am 100% more than happy to send you a redacted version w/o the TW and only include the relationship dev. stuff
> 
> TW: Police Brutality, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Child Abuse, Rape-Non-Con Implied, Suicide mention
> 
> As per the usual, will edit for grammar later on (probably by 1 pm CST 9/13)

Danse watched as Nora sat on the living room floor, angrily breaking down Righteous Authority with all the fervor of a woman scorned, removing several metal pieces from the toolbox at her feet without so much as attempting to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled around them. She worked quietly, her eyebrows drawn together in a thoughtful expression as her fingers deftly disassembled the internal firing mechanisms of the rifle.

As much as he wanted to give her adequate time to decompress, given the earlier argument with Piper, his curiosity about her weapon modifications ultimately won out. He couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized by her movements and familiarity with the firearm as he moved to peer over her shoulder in what, he had thought, was a subtle enough manner.

Her sudden sigh was the only indication he had been caught, a faint heat of embarrassment creeping along the back of his neck as he moved to sit across from her.

“What are you doing?” He asked finally, after trying and failing to see what piece she was handling, the mechanism almost entirely blocked from his view by her nimble fingers.

“I’m adding a hammer to the trigger assembly.” Her answer was quick, making no effort to look up or meet his eyes as she worked. As if sensing his coming question, she elaborated, picking up a small tool from the floor in the process. “It’ll help lower the pull weight needed to activate the fusion cells. This way, I don’t have to press so firmly on the trigger.”

Her apparent knowledge of laser weapons fascinated him, watching as she quickly put the pieces back together into the frame, confidently exchanging tools with each new piece she replaced. Danse felt a swell of pride and curiosity bloom in his chest at the quick movement of her hands, remembering her gentle fingers interlocked with his own not too long ago.

“That’s quite impressive.” He admitted, surprised at her familiarity with the weapon. “I wasn’t aware you were so familiar with the internal mechanics of energy weapons.”

She paused, hand hesitating as she clicked the piece she had modified back into place. “I read it in a magazine... It looked simple enough.”

Part of him was horrified, wanting to chastise her for adding untested modifications to Righteous, of all her weapons. But given the frustration rolling off her in waves, mirroring the particularly ferocious Yao Gui he had the misfortune of encountering the week before, Danse thought better of it, at least for the time being. “Why did you want to lower the pull weight?”

She looked up finally, relaxing as she regarded his interested expression. “I was hoping it’d reduce the trigger creep, giving me less time to anticipate the shot, and improve my accuracy.”

“Are you having issues with the accuracy of your shots?” The words came out firmer than he’d intended and he tried to clarify the statement. “I can take a look at her, if you’d like, or if it’s additional training you need-”

“It’s not that.” Nora quickly interrupted, shooting him an annoyed glance at his offer of training, and undoubtedly the implication that she needed help with her shots. A warmth fluttered somewhere in his gut at the stubborn expression he had come to grow so fond of, relieved to see it gracing her features once more. “It’s the sound... I’m still not used to the sound of gunshots.”

Danse nodded, trying to imagine what life was like in a world where one wasn't surrounded by gunfire on a near-daily basis. “I suppose it was not as common to hear gunshots before the war.”

“It’s wasn’t completely uncommon, but it was nothing like it is now. For one thing, almost every time we would shoot it was at the range for practice, inside a secure building, with eye and ear protection.” She offered a sad smile as she returned to reassembling the rifle in her hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard my fair share of live gunfire, but I was blessed to never have to fire my service weapon.”

“You never...?” Danse cleared his throat, unsure how to word the phrase ‘You never killed anyone before the war’ in a compassionate manner. Fortunately, he didn’t have to, as Nora answered the implied question with an aching emptiness in her eyes that he would have given every set of Power Armor in the Brotherhood to never have to see again.

“No, never. It came close a couple times, it came damn close... That’s why we had a fairly high trigger pull weight on our service weapons.” She shot him a nervous gaze before continuing. Had he not known better, he would have thought the expression was one of shame. “It was pretty standard back then, to make sure none of the officers ‘accidentally’ discharged their weapons on citizens... Didn’t stop it from happening though.”

Danse frowned at that, annoyed at her emphasis on the word ‘accidentally’. “How does someone with adequate firearm training accidentally shoot an unarmed civilian?”

“How does a cop accidentally discharge their weapon in a school auditorium?” She quipped back, her amused tone replaced by an uncharacteristically serious one. “That’s a very complex question, one with an even more complicated answer... There’s a lot of factors, but I think you hit the nail on the head with ‘adequate training’.”

“I see.” He stated, bothered by the revelation that the pre-war security forces had such lackadaisical training standards. “The Brotherhood prides themselves on adequately training their soldiers.”

Nora raised her eyebrow suddenly, an incredulous expression marking her face as she stared at him in shock. “I got a set of armor and a promotion on one mission and word alone.”

He wanted to correct her, insist that there were a multitude of factors to consider regarding her induction, but every defense of the expedited process seemed wholly inadequate. “That... Was a unique circumstance.”

“Was it?” She pushed, a reassembled Righteous still held protectively in her lap.

“Of course it was. Elder Maxson would never so blatantly disregard Brotherhood procedure.” Danse maintained, uncomfortable at her sudden analysis of the Brotherhood’s standards. “Besides, as your sponsor, it's my duty to travel with you throughout the Commonwealth to ensure that our ideals are being observed and you’re representing the Brotherhood adequately.”

“So that’s why you’re so concerned about my accuracy.” Nora accused, moving to stand and place the rifle on the counter behind her. The sudden coldness in her tone hitting him like a shock to his system. “You’re just monitoring my performance in the field?”

He wanted to correct her and reassure her that no, he was traveling with her for so many more reasons than that, any semblance of professionalism gone the second he lied to Maxson just to protect her. But the words caught in his throat, watching hopelessly as she looked up at the clock on the shack wall.

Before he could force himself to clear the air, she grabbed the bag of caps from the workbench and turned toward him. The carefully constructed, feigned mask of confidence was back in place and she tilted her head toward him. “It’s almost 8, Danny will be waiting for me at the Dugout. You coming or not?”

“Would you like me to come?” He queried, hating the desperation of the statement, like he was looking for her approval of his presence.

Nora faltered only briefly at the question before offering a too-quick shrug and moving to the door, opening it more aggressively than he saw fit. He half expected the rickety door to fall clean off it’s hinges, but by some miraculous force, it didn’t.

The neon lights of Diamond City bathed Nora in a vibrant glow, making her look near angelic, had it not been for the guise of charismatic assurance that he knew masked her irate expression. Danse followed her through the marketplace, wanting to see _her_ again, the real Nora, not whatever character she was putting out to the world for the night. She turned suddenly as the entered an alley, startling him at the sudden movement.

“I’m surprised you’d want to come see your initiate get drunk at a bar. Wouldn’t want to misrepresent the Brotherhood’s ideals now would we, Paladin?” For the first time in his life, hearing his rank made him feel distinctly ill, the spiteful way Nora spit the title out like a bad taste cut to his core.

“What do you mean?” He gritted out, trying to keep his tone neutral given her sudden display of frustration.

_It’s not so sudden, she’s always been an angry person. Understandably so given her circumstances, but still..._

It was the first time in weeks that she’d been angry with him personally, the first time since that first mission in Cambridge, and he just couldn’t figure out why. He desperately wracked his brain trying to find where he had apparently misstepped so severely. As she turned to storm off once more, he grabbed her upper arm quickly, halting the movement

“Talk to me.” He pleaded, relaxing his hand as not to truly prevent her form leaving, should she decide she wanted to.

“Why? So you can go report back to Maxson?” The words were still cold, but undercut by the distinct tone of doubt. Danse felt his chest tighten upon hearing the uncertainty in her voice.

“Do you really think so little of me to believe I would betray your confidence so completely?” He accused, gutted by the realization of her distrust. “Must I remind you of exactly how much of a risk we’re taking with our alleged mission down in the Glowing Sea?”

Nora looked away at the words, her previously-squared shoulder drooping against his hand instantly. “I’m sorry, Danse. I know you’re taking a risk being out here with me... I’m just so _fucking_ pissed at everything, all the time. And when you said that shit about making sure I uphold the Brotherhood’s ideals, I just snapped, I guess.”

The memory of his words hit him like a ton of bricks as he recognized his insensitivity. He brought his other hand to her shoulder in a reassuring movement that was beginning to feel like a habit, albeit a welcome one, and brought his gaze to meet her own. “I... I apologize. I did not intend to imply that I was accompanying you solely as a means of surveillance. I only meant to justify Maxson’s approval of your recruitment by emphasizing that his decision was based on my close association with your progress.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She quickly ran her free hand over her face, shaking her head in the process. “I just, sometimes I forget you’re my sponsor, and not just my friend.”

“I will admit, I share that sentiment, and understand that separating the two can prove to be difficult at times.” He agreed, missing the sudden lack of contact Nora stepped back and he dropped his arms back to his side.

She offered him a brief smile, jutting her head behind her. “C’mon. If we’re any later Danny might deploy Diamond City’s full security force just to find us.”

*

Danse watched as Nora made her way around the crowded bar, appearing to know almost everyone she encountered along the way. With every new acquaintance her personality seemed to change slightly, accommodation that of whomever she spoke with. He found himself impressed at how easily she could mirror her companion’s mannerisms, garnering their trust with surprising ease.

Despite her previous claims of living in Diamond City only ‘sometimes’, he recognized that she carried herself with a certain level of comfort within the bar. She didn’t quite relax as much as she had when they were alone, a thought the inspired something prideful in him that he didn’t quite recognize, but he was pleased to see her genuine smile as she chatted with a particularly boisterous man behind the bar, nonetheless.

She spent the better part of the night talking with the various patrons that approached her, many of whom did not even appear to live in the city, judging by their armored attire. Danse had only been partially paying attention to the conversations, occasionally scanning the bar for potential conflicts or dangers. Fortunately, none of the customers seemed particularly threatening. 

He had broke away from Nora a few minutes before, settling into a couch to watch the awkward exchange between a nervous couple at the bar. The male half had seemed particularly uncomfortable, but tried desperately to flirt with the blonde woman across from him. Danse attempted to ascertain the nature of relationship between the two, given their rigid body language, but couldn’t quite figure out their dynamic.

It wasn’t until Nora settled onto the couch next to him, engaged in a heated conversation with Danny about the merits of Diamond City’s various security tactics, that he realized how late it had become. Her movements were much more fluid and less guarded than he was used to seeing them. He was aware of how youthful she looked in the moment, the usual hardened expression wonderfully vacant from her features as she relaxed by his side.

He could feel her leaning much closer to him than was probably decent, given that she _was_ his subordinate, but he couldn’t bring himself to correct the closeness. When she looked back toward him, scanning his face with an eager intent, he felt his pulse speed up instantly. 

“So, wha’d’ya think, Danse?” She asked, her voice slowed slightly by beers she’d had, but not thoroughly slurred yet.

“Shhh.” Danny urged, clearly much more inebriated than Danse and Nora combined, and then some. “S’no. I’know wha’ e’s gonna say.”

“Wha’s that?” She urged, resting her head against Danse’s shoulder in a quick, confident motion. The movement send his heart racing even more, because as close as she was seated next to him, there was no explaining away the movement as anything less than familiar. However there wasn't any way he could possibly sacrifice the warmth of her cheek against his shoulder for all the propriety in the world.

“ ‘E’s gonna say the Brotherhood is the only one who can...” Danny stopped, his attention turning to something nonexistent in the corner.

“You’re drunk, Sullivan.” Nora accused with a laugh, moving to stand, holding Danse’s arm for balance as she steadied herself. “Ya gotta’ go to bed, kiddo.”

“Me? You drank.... something too.” He pouted, shooting Danse a pleading glance before realizing he was on his own.

“I had a few beers, you had a whole case _at least_.” She defended, smiling at her friend as she gently pushed him toward the Dugout’s door. “I’s time to sleep it off.”

Danny grumbled something indistinguishable as he moved out the door, ambling clumsily in the direction of a faded gray door and stumbling inside. Nora looked up toward Danse with an amused smile. “Don’t worry, that’s just the clinic. Doc’ll take care of him, some of it might’even be good.”

“I believe it might be time for you to ‘sleep it off’ as well.” He stated, turning to meet her happy expression, any indication of her earlier distress gone.

_And by the Creator, it’s a blessing to see her look so peaceful, for once._

“I’m fine, but I am starving... Fuck everything’s closed.” She complained, moving toward Home Plate after briefly scanning the darkened marketplace.

He followed into the building behind her, double checking to make sure the door was secure as she curled up in one of the armchairs in the living room behind him, closing her eyes happily. He watched her carefully, trying to figure out if it was worth bothering her to guide her upstairs to bed.

_If she sleeps in such a position for an extended period of time, she’ll surely be uncomfortable tomorrow..._

“I’m not asleep.” She mumbled, opening her eyes suddenly and returning his stare. “I’m buzzed, but not so much that I’m going to sleep any time soon.”

He watched as she shifted to rest her head on her bicep, the curve of her hip covered in bright in cerulean stark against the worn fabric of the armchair, and found himself imagining just how soft she might feel against his rough and calloused hands. A part of him quickly recognized that he might have been fairly inebriated himself, and he made his escape toward the ‘kitchen’ area, pulling various items off of the shelf without so much as registering them as he tried to stave off _that_ significantly improper thought.

“I’ll make something to eat.” He explained suddenly, hoping his tone was fairly even as he grabbed random cookware from the cabinet.

“Mm...You’re making me dinner? Hope you’re not expecting anything from me now, Danse.” Nora joked, watching him with a sly smirk. “I’m a lady after all.”

If the pan Danse was holding had not already been placed firmly against the surface of the hot plate, he would have surely dropped it right then. Because the sound of Nora flirting, even if it was purely in jest, with him of all people, damn near rendered him in need of defibrillation.

“You’re in need of sustenance. I ought to help, yes?” He replied, aware of his own unsteady tone as he considered the items before him, refusing to look up at the maddeningly alluring woman a mere few feet away, who was undoubtedly watching him with a look that would definitely tease the line of professionalism.

_It’s just the beer talking after all, no need to overreact. She’s always making jokes, anyway._

“You’re always a help, Danse.” Nora answered, a heavy tone in her words as she turned away, pulling a patch-work blanket against her and picking up a worn book from where it sat resting on the couch.

_What the fuck does that mean?_

Danse refocused on the goods in front of him, deciding to make the Blamco. The cheese-flavored noodles could be hard to come by in the wasteland, particularly in the Commonwealth. They boxes cost double what they had in Rivet City and he hadn’t had the opportunity to enjoy any since he’d left the Citadel months before. The Prydwen certainly didn’t carry such an unnecessary luxury. At the very least, it would take several minutes to make, giving him time to compose himself.

As the pasta boiled, he watched her scan the pages of the book quickly, curled up under the blanket as she read. There was something comforting about the scene, even if it was a feeling thoroughly unfamiliar to him. Save for Cutler, he had been on his own for just about as long as he could remember. To be cooking dinner in what was arguably not just a house but Nora’s home, while she leisurely read a book in the other room, made him strangely nostalgic for a closeness he’d never known.

Nora looked up suddenly, catching his preoccupied stare with a small smirk. “It’s called reading. We used to do a lot of it before the war.”

“I read.” He defended quickly as he finished draining the water and mixed the neon-orange powder into the noodles. After pouring the meager portion between the two bowls, he moved to sit on the couch, offering the bowl to Nora with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks Danse. Does the Brotherhood teach all their recruits to boil pasta or are you just exceptionally talented?” She joked, taking the bowl with a small laugh as she watched him.

“Negative, I’m fairly certain Haylen would blow up the Prydwen if she attempted such a technique.” He answered, entertained by the idea of Haylen or Rhys trying to prepare anything more complex than a can of cold beans with varying levels of success.

Nora snorted out a laugh, taking a scoop of the noodles eagerly. “Good to know. I’ll keep any other Brotherhood soldiers as far away from my kitchen as possible.”

“That would be wise.” He agreed, allowing himself to savor the processed cheese flavor with each bite. 

“You should get some rest. Figured we should get used to taking shifts.” She started, finishing her bowl quickly and looking toward the clock.

“I don’t require sleep at the moment.” He maintained, not wanting to delay their journey any more than necessary. “I seem to be able to operate fairly well with minimal rest.”

“You’re not a machine, Danse.” She chided, ever the image of a concerned parent as she watched him sternly. “You need rest, and if I’m supposed to have you covering my ass, I’d prefer you not be caught daydreaming.”

He frowned at the accusation that he would be so lackadaisical to drop his guard, but recalled their ArcJet mission with embarrassment. “I suppose it would be opportune to rest while in a fairly secure location.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t shiv you in your sleep or anything.” She promised, moving to collect their now empty bowls as she stood. “Blood is really a bitch to get out of a mattress and I paid far for my half-clean one too much to go ruining it.”

“I’d appreciate that.” He quipped back, moving to the set of stairs as she waved him away with a small smile.

*

Danse had been asleep for a couple hours and Nora was keeping herself busy by trying to sort through the crate of junk she still had yet to strip down for parts. The faint melody of Diamond City Radio filled the air as she worked and she hoped the volume was low enough as not to disturb Danse's sleep upstairs.

The process was frustrating to say the least. It was a headache and a half trying to keep track of which settlements needed what resources and figuring out how to get them to the settlers in time, with the few provisioners they had available for supply runs. That wasn’t even accounting for the food shortages she still had to tackle. 

Sturges had confirmed that Marcy and Sheffield were working overtime to plant new crops, but with a majority of the new Minutemen recruits spread thin, working on defensive duties across their settlements, the yield was making slow progress. She had just decided to ask Piper and Cait to help out with the crops up in Sanctuary, given their previous offer to do so, when Danse reemerged downstairs.

If it was humanely possible to look less rested after a nap, he certainly would have fit the bill, his eyes distant and face weary as he looked around the garage area with a frown.

He was more than eager to rush out of Home Plate, grumbling about maximizing their time during daylight hours, but not of course before checking her work on Righteous, muttering something under his breath along the lines of ‘potential dangers’ and ‘inexperienced repair work’.

Nora would have been irritated at the fussing, if it didn’t inspire a sensation of warmth in her stomach at his apparent concern for her safety. She had been hopelessly trying to ignore the flashes of her earlier dream; the feel of Danse’s lips against her own had felt so real and she couldn’t quite shake the disappointment that it hadn’t been. The situation inspired a whole mess of complicated feelings that she was desperately trying not to process, ones that she was certain she wasn’t prepared to confront quite yet.

As they slipped passed the final guard along the outskirts of Diamond City, she was eager to distract herself from ruminating on what an absolute ass she had been to him the previous night.

Nora knew she had been out of line with her glorified temper tantrum, but hearing Danse talk about how he was ‘monitoring her progress’ or whatever verbiage he had used felt like he had torn her heart straight out of her chest. Without giving way to reason, all she could feel at the moment was _hurt_ at the implication he was solely accompanying her because Maxson had dictated it.

_Because it was so much more than that, wasn’t it? You don’t lie to a superior officer for just anyone, right?_

Nora scanned the sky ahead, enjoying the rainbow of colors breaking across the horizon as day broke. It seemed like such a quaint pleasure, taking a moment to enjoy something as frivolous as a sunrise, but she smiled besides herself nonetheless.

“Someone help! Please, she’s hurt!” A desperate voice cried out and Nora turned to face the direction of it’s source, catching sight of a muscular young woman in a plaid shirt.

“What seems to be the problem?” Danse asked, moving closer to the woman as he spoke. Something was decidedly off about the situation, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It wasn’t common for settlers to be this close to the city, especially without any armor or visible weaponry. There were always hoards of supermutants right outside the boarders of the stadium and someone would be a fool to not have any protection.

“She got mauled by ferals, please help. You’re the Brotherhood of Steel, you’re supposed to help, right?” The woman urged, taking note of their Power Armor.

“I don’t think-” Nora started, irritated at the woman’s sudden perception of their allegiance.

“The Brotherhood of Steel is more than happy to assist when needed.” Danse answered quickly, an irritated firmness in his tone as he briefly turned his helmet to her.

“Thank you, sir! Please, she’s back here.” The woman praised, turning to run back into the hardware store.

Nora immediately put her hand in front of Danse’s chest, preventing him from walking any closer. “Why don’t you bring her out here?”

The other woman paused, turning as she held the door open for them, a streak of anger crossing her features briefly before it was gone again. “She’s just hurt too bad, I can’t move her-”

“That won’t be necessary.” Danse assured, looking down to the armored hand in front of his chest.

“It will _absolutely_ be necessary.” Nora spit, bringing her rifle level toward the woman in front of her. “There’s no settlements around her, you have no armor, and this is Raider territory.”

The woman froze, cocking her head in frustration as the innocent facade was stripped away.

“Oh you think you’re smart? You’re fucking dead, bitch!” She sneered, reaching behind the door frame and bringing a shotgun up toward Nora.

Before she could act, Danse had brought his own rifle up and fired two fatal shots through the Raider’s chest. The sound of the woman’s body hitting the ground made Nora flinch, scanning the room behind her as a half dozen additional Raiders poured out from the double doors. Danse winced behind her as one of the shots came in contact with the chest plate of his armor, denting the metal and causing him to take several steps back from the force. Nora began firing blindly toward the group, immediately lifting her pistol with her non-dominant hand when Righteous clicked empty, indicating it needing to be reloaded.

She fired several shots into the chest of a staggering Raider, his own weapon long gone as he collapsed. Everything around her seemed sharper, time moving gratingly slow as she scanned the lobby of the small store, listening for any signs of movement that would indicate additional assailants jumping out from the surrounding rooms.

“Good call, Hartt.” The voice behind her stated as she spun toward him, catching her breath as she realized it was just Danse, looking no worse for wear besides the dent in his chest plate. “I’m ashamed to admit that she managed to appeal to my sense of duty as a Brotherhood Paladin.”

Nora took a quick breath, the heart rate monitor in her visor flashing angry warnings at her as she refocused back on her surroundings. “Yeah... I heard about something similar a few weeks back. It just didn’t add up.”

He nodded quickly, turning to check the road behind them. “Regardless, I should have realized it was a ruse sooner.”

Her heart was still thudding against her chest, albeit significantly slower as she stepped back away from the entry, Despite the fact that she knew the Power Armor would protect him from a few stray 10mm rounds, the terrifying image of the Raider raising his pistol at Danse was still burned in the front of her mind.

“How about we both just agree to take any settlers eager to lead us into a confined space with a grain of salt?” She offered, heading back toward the direct she estimated was southwest, thanks to Danse’s earlier analysis.

“Affirmative.” He answered, falling into step next to her without another word as they trekked on.

Nora estimated that, baring any major complications or hostile forces, they should be able to make it to Vault 95 by noon. She hoped that the Gunners hadn’t moved back in, given that they were near impossible to drive out last time, and there had been four of them for that. Granted, none of their merry band of misfits had Power Armor the first time around, but it wasn’t an experience she was particularly keen to re-live, regardless.

She considered turning on Diamond City Radio to fill the silence, but decided against it. There was something comfortable about the silence they maintained, neither feeling pressured to make awkward small talk, but she didn’t want to discourage conversation if it arose. The familiar crumbling Parkview Bridge came into a view, a small smile teasing at her lips as they made their way over the metal grating. The wreckage of a decrepit ship was crashed against the foundation beneath them, it’s mast broken and laying across the length of the bridge.

“It appears the vessel's navigator made a grievous miscalculation.” Danse muttered, frowning at the wreckage of the ship below. Nora let out a small laugh, stepping over a particularly large gap in the metal.

“That’s an understatement... I guess navigation kinda takes the back seat when you see a mushroom cloud looming over Boston.” She stated, shaking her head as she tried to force her own memory of the bombs from her head.

“I- I suppose so. I didn’t think of it like that.” He admitted, turning back to her briefly as he made his way around a large piece of metal debris.

“Yeah. Seeing a bomb dropped on your town has a way of changing your priorities.” She replied, trying to keep her tone even as she spoke. Part of her was kicking herself for bringing that day up, but she couldn’t motivate herself to change the topic. It was nice, in a way, to be able to talk about how truly traumatic it was to see her world end so succinctly.

“You saw it happen?” Danse blurted, his words bearing the same tone of surprise as they had when he’d first discovered she was a vault-dweller. It was a mixture between wonder and shock, except this time Nora didn’t bristle at the question like she had then.

“Yeah. It was the most horrifying thing I’d ever seen, and I saw...” She paused, unsure of exactly how forthcoming she should be about some of the nauseatingly gruesome crime scenes been forced to work as a rookie, her training officer intent to hold her metaphorical feet to the fire. “I saw plenty of things that most people would probably categorize as traumatic. If you think the Raiders are the lowest form of scum to ever walk this earth, you’d be wrong.”

Nora took an uneasy breath, afraid of opening the chest of traumas too much and scaring Danse off completely. “I regretfully admit that such a fact doesn’t surprise me.”

“Yeah. We had people like Raiders. Rapists. Child abusers. Serial Killers.” Nora stopped, thinking of the last case she had worked before Kevins’ suicide. “The things that parents would do to their kids, pimping fucking their children out for drug money, it was horrible. They at least had the forethought to be secretive about it, hiding behind closed doors... I don’t know what’s worse, honestly.”

“People like that should never be blessed with children.” He agreed, anger cutting through his firm tone. “They willingly stripped themselves of all sense of humanity to commit such atrocities."

“Yeah. The car accidents were horrible too.” She mentioned, trying to push the memories of the mangled bodies, crushed beneath metal and glass, far from her mind. “But the bombs... that was the worst thing I’d ever seen. I don’t know why, maybe because it was catastrophe on a global scale, maybe because it was happening to me personally. I don’t know.”

The silence grew heavy for several painfully long moments as they walked before Danse finally spoke. “You must have been terrified.”

There was a tender kindness in his voice, something almost like understanding but resting closer to empathy. Nora let out a breath of relief, as if she had been afraid of his condemnation, but for what she wasn’t quite sure.

“I was. We were going to go to the park, had a picnic basket packed and ready to go when Codsworth called us to see the news broadcasts.” She divulged, the memory making her throat feel suddenly dry and tight. Ever since waking she had done everything to not think about that day, not even mentioning the details of that morning to Nick, but as they crept closer to the very bomb that had shattered her life into a million little pieces that she'd never be able to reassemble, she felt an emergent need to talk about it. “It started with Manhattan, New York, then about five minutes later, Pittsburg, Pennsylvania. I was completely frozen as I heard the newscaster, I just, I couldn’t process it. Shaun was still only eight months old and I was standing there, in shock. If it wasn’t for Nate I would have stood there in the living room until the end of time, I just couldn’t process what was happening. I don’t know. I didn’t even realize the US was having their alleged ‘meeting’ with China that morning, it was all just so sudden.”

She stopped, feeling embarrassed and ashamed at having divulged so much information, afraid that she would come across as foolish or ignorant. Hell, by the times the bombs dropping it have been almost two whole years since she had been in the field, trying desperately to be content as a nothing more than a housewife.

“But you got into the vault, ultimately.” He offered, his words blatantly controlled. She wondered if he expected her to go off on him should he misspeak. Though to be fair, she couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

“My father worked with Vault Tec to broker some sort of deal with the US federal government. I don’t know a lot about it, besides what I saw on the news.” She admitted, thinking back to the last conversation she had with her estranged father. “Other than that, I found out everything from family members. I hadn’t even spoken to my father for years before a Vault Tec rep showed up on my doorstep insisting he recruit me for 111 because of my father’s service or some bullshit. I fucking knew it was too good to be true, I said it was a glorified tomb, but... It doesn’t matter, I guess. Vault Tec was a sick goddamn organization.”

Danse was quiet for several minutes, not making a single attempt at conversation as they passed the Robotics Park. Nora had been forced to take a field trip back in middle school to the park, despite her ardent disinterest in the expedition. Had she known the prevalence of computers and robotics would be so damn common at the end of the world, she would have paid significantly more attention to such lessons, instead of sneaking off with Nikki Winifred for the duration of the trip.

“Do you think your father was abridged of Vault-Tec’s plans for unethical experimentation?” Danse finally asked, his steps slowing to match her pace.

“I don’t know. If he did, it wouldn’t surprise me. One last punishment, I guess.” She shrugged, not wanting to consider that her father had set her up so significant, but not willing to discount such an idea.

“What do you mean?” He asked, stopping his forward steps as her turned toward her and flipped open his visor.

_Ah fuck, we got to have the racism talk today, of all days?_

“My father didn’t approve of Nate. There were a lot of reasons why, none of them valid.” She answered, trying to temper the pain at the memory from leaking into her voice. “We fell out years before the war, but he had insisted on getting us on the list for a Vault. I have no idea if it was a punishment or an apology or anything at all... He died a few months before the battle of Anchorage, so I never got to ask. I don’t know if he knew about the experiments or not, I’ve heard about vaults that were perfectly normal, so there’s no saying. I guess it doesn’t matter, not really. He was a bastard. I loved him, but he wasn’t a good person most of the time.”

“I’m sorry. It sounds like he tried, at least, to fix some of the damage he caused.” Danse offered, an uncharacteristic softness in his voice that soothed her soul in a way that even Med-X couldn’t emulate.

The thought was a pleasant one, at least. It was comforting to think that her father had relented his crusade before his death, whether it was true or not. She idly thought that had he not acquiesced his antiquated views, it would be appropriate to assume he had. There was nothing that quelled the voices of hate more than refusing to give them a medium.

“That’s a nice thought.” She quipped, not willing to admit her father had truly changed, even for her and Shaun. 

Before he could answer, Danse turned toward a pack of surprisingly large mongrel dogs charging toward them, and began firing. "“Safeties off, we're about to have company!” 

Nora raised her own rifle, shooting the closest one twice in the head, flinching as the animal collapsed onto the ground. As much as she knew the mutated dogs would not hesitate to tear her to shreds, there was still something about killing them that felt wrong. They reminded her far too much of Dogmeat, whose absence was all too apparent when she'd lie awake at night, her heart aching for the warmth of her canine companion.

“It appears the hostiles have been dealt with.” Danse stated from behind her, crouching as he appeared to examine the mongrel’s body. “These creatures are adorned with armor, their owners may be nearby.”

“Fuck!” She exclaimed, irritated about the additional obstacles they still were sure to encounter ahead. “I’d be fucking furious if someone hurt Dogmeat, so it's safe to expect a decent display of fire.”

Much to her surprise, they had no encounters with disgruntled Gunners or Raiders, their journey surprisingly easy as they made their way toward a sparse farm in the distance. For whatever reason, someone seemed to be looking out for her, and she wasn’t about to look a metaphorical gift horse in the mouth by complaining about the ease of their journey.

Before they could reach the farm, a large shadow in the distance caught her attention, the breath catching in her throat as she observed the tall spire across the expanse of nuclear debris. The sight of the building had her entranced, walking mindlessly toward the towering chapel, the shape of the church unmistakable as she approached. She hadn't even registered the click of her geiger counter or the dismal sight of the bombs destruction in her fixation.

Even from yards away, the church was unmistakable, breathtakingly in flux between it’s former glory and it’s current state. Nora trudged forward not hearing the heavy echo of each resulting step, anything beyond _that_ church of all places, completely disregarded in her dissociative state. Before she could realize where she was stepping, she found herself peering into a large hole in the roof of what she had formerly known as Hopesmarch Pentacostal Church. The building had seemingly sunk several feet into the ground, it’s roof and spire the only visible reminders of it’s beautiful craftsmanship.

It had been a miracle that Nate had even agreed to be married in the church, only acquiescing because he hoped it would be a show of good faith to her father. Neither of them had been particularly picky about where they got married, religion was more of a cultural matter for them both as opposed to a fundamental building block in their life, like it was for their parents.

To see the very place that had legally and, if religion could be credited, spiritually linked her a Nate together still standing bred a weird sensation of pride and sadness inside her chest, unwilling to leave the ruins of the decrepit building quite yet.

She was only partially aware of Danse complaining about something behind her, more than likely about her impromptu detour from their journey, but her mind refused to focus on anything other than the memory of how good Nate had looked in his tux, his eyes filling with happy tears as he watched her approach down the aisle

“God damn it! Watch your step!”

The words finally registered as she turned to look toward where Danse stood several feet away, refusing to step on the rickety tiles of the church’s roof. She quickly stood, trying to offer an apology and explanation in one as she heard the ceramic tile crack beneath her, followed by a sudden sense of terrifying weightlessness as she felt the ground beneath her open up, crumbling before she could react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking... Get to the funfun stuff. I will, soon, promise. I have this planned up to the end roughly and specifically to the Tradecraft/building the Relay in very very specific detail. 
> 
> Also, bought a tablet so I can get into digital art for this fic.
> 
> Also Also, There are already two accompanying fics in the works (much shorter) about Cait/Piper and Sturges/Preston.
> 
> I really want to run with some Deacon-specific fics about his actual backstory, unslashed. If people would read that, IDK.
> 
> It would all be in the same Universe, so maybe just smaller parts of the collections.


	27. Uranium Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Uranium fever has done and got me down  
> Uranium fever is spreadin' all around  
> With a Geiger counter in my hand  
> I'm a-goin' out to stake me some government land  
> Uranium fever has done and got me down'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work has been insane, please forgive me.
> 
> AS per the ush, editting 1-2 business days from posting.
> 
> :) I hope... This is enjoyable.
> 
> I'm always rereading and editing earlier chapters for continuity.

Nora fell through the church in a flash, disappearing into the ruins with a resounding crack of roofing tiles two centuries past their warranty, undoubtedly compromised beneath the imposing weight of her Power Armor.

Danse could feel the anger building in his chest, as she dropped through the roof. He was furious at her for being so reckless, particularly because he had dispensed several warnings advising her of their uncertain terrain and she hadn’t so much as acknowledged him. Another, more crushing part of him was pissed at himself, for not stopping her as she stepped over the broken stone and wood, clearly risking her safety as she climbed upon the roof. He should have recognized that she wouldn’t be able to maneuver herself as well in Power Armor, given her limited experience with it. At the very least, he thought he should been there to grab hold of her before she plummeted through.

The sudden thud below was followed by the gut-wrench sound of dozens of growls, echoing horrifically through the tall ceilings of the church. The irritation he had felt about the potential damage to her armor and how the _hell_ he was supposed to get her out of the ruins below was replaced by absolute terror. 

Recruits could jump off the Prydwen in the most rudimentary of Power Armor without anything more severe than a broken ankle. He knew that her set would sufficiently protect her from the fall, especially given it’s recent superior reinforcement. While he was certain she’d be no worse for wear from the drop, despite her inevitably wounded pride or potential bruising from the impact, he hadn’t even considered what else might have taken residence in the building below.

Without given himself more than a brief moment to scan the remaining shambles of the roof, he jogged toward the large exposed beam just as gunfire broke out inside. He looked over in time to see a large ball of fire engulf the area below, exposing the two dozen feral ghouls surrounding Nora as they battered her with their rotting limbs. The smell hit of propane him in an instant, but the gas had dissipated rapidly after it’s brief ignition.

Despite the sun over-head, the church was bathed in darkness, the flimsy sheets of roofing doing more to shield it's interior from the sun than anything. Spotting a fairly sparse area below, Danse quickly jumped down into the pews, wincing as he heard part of his leg plate crack slightly from coming into sudden contact with the wooden bench.

_Damn it, did they make these things out of metal?_

He turned to see the bright red flash of Nora’s rifle, illuminating the corner she was backed into in quick bursts of light. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, the sound of his armor crashing into the pew drew the attention of a majority of the ghouls, who promptly turned toward him. The ferals were surprisingly fast in spite of their advanced decay, surrounding him mere moments after he landed.

The echo of laser fire occupied the better part of ten minutes, and they fell into the familiar comfort of battle codependency as they worked. Danse moved instinctively, able to ascertain the gaps in shots indicating her reloads, just as Nora seemed to notice where he was planning to turn, covering his back silently.

The relief of dispensing the feral hoard was quickly replaced by the anger he’d all but forgotten in the heat of battle. He turned to her in time to see her remove her helmet, the visor visibly cracked as she cradled it in her arm, breathing heavily as she scanned the room.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?!” He bellowed as he removed his own helmet and flicked the headlamp on, ignoring the prickling of irradiated air against his skin. The glare he could feel burning inside was far too great to be contained by the metal, and he wanted her to clearly see how pissed he was. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Nora stood frozen, mouth agape at his sudden outburst. “I-I just thought. I was just looking-”

“You could have been killed!” Danse accused, making his way toward her. He knew he was being harsher than necessary, but the trickle of blood along Nora’s eyebrow was painting traumatizing images in his mind about what could have occurred had the ghouls overtaken her. “Do you have a death wish, soldier?”

She flinched at the accusation, tensing her jaw as she answered coldly. “No. I just miscalculated the situation.”

“You went running off into unexplored territory, failing to head every one of my warnings on the matter.” He chastised, the thumping of his heart against his chest only fueling his harsh tone, as it still tried to slow back down to normal from the rush of adrenaline in his blood. “You went so far as to make such an egregious mistake as to climb upon the roof of these _ruins_ -”

“Just-Shut up!” The angry exclamation was enough to completely redirect everything Danse had been prepared to say. Nora looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes as she turned away, swallowing visibly in the resulting silence.

_This isn’t just another ruin, this church meant something to her_ _, you ignorant bastard._

He kicked himself for his insensitivity, yet again, wishing he just knew the right words to make her understand how dangerous the situation was, to make her understand how scared he was for her as soon as he’d heard the roar of the ghouls. It was so easy at times to forget that she hadn’t always been braving the wasteland with sarcastic rejoinders and a sly smile, instead coming from a time so drastically different.

“I’m sorry.” Danse stated suddenly, the words genuine and soft. “It’s, uh, hard to imagine the wasteland as being anything beyond it’s current state. Regardless, that doesn’t excuse my insensitivity to your unique connection with such places.”

Nora sniffed, her back still turned to him as she lifted her head toward the ceiling for several long moments before answering. “I had my wedding in this church.”

_Oh God... Of course_ _she would have gotten married here._

He felt himself still, unsure of what to say or do that could possibly offer her any comfort from the pain of her memories. Nora cleared her throat once more, turning toward him with a forlorn smile.

“It was beautiful, back then. There were these gorgeous stained glass windows that would paint the incoming sunlight into these mesmerizing rainbows, stretching across the whole church. Not to mention the artwork in the halls, the artists had such amazing brush work, it was just breathtaking. I keep forgetting that it wasn’t just a couple months ago, but over two hundred years. I half expected to find... I don’t know, something.” She shrugged, suddenly composing herself into a controlled expression that only tore at Danse’s chest more. “It doesn’t matter though, you’re right. I was reckless. I put both of us in danger... I’m sorry, Danse.”

He looked around slowly, in the meager light of his helmet, still clenched in his hand as he surveyed the scene. “Well, it appears we’re no worse for wear, save the injury to your head.”

She reached up quickly, touching the concealed blood and frowning as she observed the red stain on her fingers. “It’s not too bad, right?”

He sighed, eyeing the wound carefully as he shined the headlamp at an angle from her face. “It does seem rather minor for a head wound, given their proclivity for significant hemorrhage. If you wish, I can retrieve a stimpak and some Med-X from-”

“I’m fine.” She insisted with a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure I open a car door directly into my forehead when I was a kid. Damn near needed stitches after that one, and I’m still kicking after two hundred years right?” The wave of her hand dismissed his attempts at protest. “Let’s save it for when we really need it, okay?”

Danse frowned, thinking about what such situations constituted ‘really’ needing such aid. Given his knowledge of the lethal dangers and suffocating radiation in the area, a stimpak hardly seemed adequate to mitigate such effects. “I will be quite frank, every map of this area we've recovered has the Common marked with a big red ‘X’... I guess we'll find out why.”

“Now, don’t threaten me with a good time.” Nora answered dryly, moving to place her helmet back on as she moved toward the stair case. “Hey, don’t hold me to this given the two centuries underground, but I’m pretty sure there’s a fire escape over this way.”

The antiquated terminology registered only enough for him to follow behind her, scanning the stairwell for additional ghouls as they trekked upward. Save for a few stragglers, they made it to the top of the steeple with minimal resistance.

From the top of the steeple they could see the horizon much clearer, the green haze collecting just west of them. He heard Nora suck in a quick breath at the sight, the dip of the crater just visible through the fog in the distance. The thought crossed his mind that had she not lived so close to a Vault or had been out elsewhere when the bombs had dropped, like that picnic she had mentioned earlier, that she might not even be there standing there with him.

“Let me guess, Doctor Virgil’s hiding down in that clusterfuck somewhere.” She muttered, grunting in frustration as she reloaded her weapons.

“Is this scientist really worth the risk of traversing such treacherous territory?” Danse asked, his words measured and even. It was clear Nora was keeping some of the details of their mission close to her chest, all he had known was that it was an alleged defector from the Institute, but he had no way to know the validity of her sources on the scientist’s whereabouts.

“I’d walk under an oncoming bomb myself if it meant I could get a lead on finding Shaun.” She answered tersely, as if holding back deeper irritation. “He could be dead for all I know, but I just... I’m willing to bet he’s down here somewhere.”

“How can you be so certain that this ‘rogue scientist’ is really hiding out in the Glowing Sea?” He pressed, eager to evaluate if the risk was really warranted, not that there was any stopping her from trying. As much as he tried to be patient with her secrecy, if he was going to risk his life and career by undertaking their mission, he at least wanted to know _why_ she was so sure.

Nora stopped walking briefly, scanning behind her before turning toward him. “It’s... It’s a long story.”

“We have quite the walk.” He retorted, the hint of wavering in her voice enough to encourage his line of questions.

“That mercenary... Kellogg, was searching for Virgil down here. I found that out after I killed him, it seemed pretty recent, and given that he was hiding out up at Fort Hagen just north of here.” She stated, her words clipped as they made their way forward.

“What seemed pretty recent?”

Nora hesitated at that, her posture visibly straightening even under the layers of Power Armor. “After I killed him, Nick found some sort of computer chip in his head-”

“He was a synth?” Danse spat, disgusted by the thought of the Institute using their disgusting bastardizations of humanity to kidnap a child. As unforgivable as the agency’s kidnappings of adults was, it was so much worse to have them go after a baby.

“No.” Her words were quick and near defensive, but before he could address such a tone, she continued. “He was human, for the most part, except he had all these, I don’t know, modifications I guess. Well, the device in his head retained some of his memories and I was able to view them myself, through this doctor who apparently works with similar tech.” He frowned, doubtful of the expertise of the alleged ‘doctor’, but said nothing. “I guess I experienced his memories first hand. I saw... I saw a lot of stuff, the doctor, Virgil, was fairly recent.”

He thought of everything she had previously told him about her son and the Institute. “That’s how you know your son is in the Institute?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed in a cool matter that Danse suspected masked a deeper emotion. “I saw Shaun being vaporized by some Institute security guard or something, I don’t know. Except that he was ten years old, according to the memory, but I would’ve recognized him anywhere. It was his eyes, more than anything... The rest of the similarities I could have ignored, but he had Nate’s eyes.”

He didn’t answer for heavy moment, trying to imagine the trauma she had been through by witnessing her own son being teleported away from her through the eyes of the very man who had killed her husband. The thought of traversing through the mind of such a despicable man horrified him, wondering exactly what Nora had seen when she stated ‘a lot of stuff’.

“I can’t begin to fathom how difficult that must have been for you.” He finally offered, deciding it was better to stick to the facts than offer any further sympathy.

She choked out an angry sound that one might have mistaken for a laugh, had it not been muffled by the helmet’s speaker. “It was arguably the worst thing I’d ever experienced in my life, and that’s saying something.”

Danse was quiet for several heavy beats longer, wanting to ask the burning question, but not wanting to be insensitive yet again in asking. It wasn’t that he cared about the answer so much as he desperately wanted Nora to know she could trust him to confide in him on the matter.

“You want to know if I saw it, don’t you?” She asked suddenly, even perceptive despite the shielding in front of their faces. “I’d want to know too, if I were you. And yeah, I did. I saw Kellogg kill my husband with his own two hands. I also saw his childhood and the loss of his own spouse and child...” Nora paused only a beat longer before continuing, cutting anything he was going to say off instantly. “You know he’s the first person I killed in cold blood? Everyone else I waited until they tried to shoot at me first, but I knew I was going to murder him the second I realized where he was, no matter what he said or did.”

The words echoes like an explosion, silencing him in surprised shock as he tried to process what she had said. Since their introduction, everything about her screamed selfless and compassionate, almost to a fault, but the revelation that she would have murdered the man who had killed her husband, even if he wasn't an immediate threat surprised him.

_It shouldn’t be a surprise now, should it? Nora is a bundle of compassion and rage, combining those two was a nuclear reaction waiting to happen._

He thought of Cutler and how those mutant’s had intentionally exposed him to their FEV, watching gleefully entertained by excruciating process as his friend underwent the unwanted transition. If he had found out a human had been behind the experiment instead of a supermutant, he knew he could not say, in good faith, that anything in the world could have spared them.

“I understand.” He stated, his own memories choosing to force their way into his mind as he recalled his final moments with his departed friend. As much as he wanted to elaborate further on his statement, none of the words seemed to fit.

“Thank you.” She offered, her voice softer than it had been previously in a way that warmed his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t made me feel like shit for not regretting that I killed him.”

“Given your extensive recount of his egregious actvities, I have no doubt that you did what was necessary.” The reassurance was firm and determined, as if begging her to believe his words.

If Nora considered responding to him, she didn’t show it, flipping open the panel on her arm to turn on the echoing sounds of Diamond City Radio, Magnolia’s sultry words echoing around them.

_'Or are you running from yourself?_

_Were you thirsty for a brand new kind of pleasure_

_Or are you hungry to be somebody else?'_

*

She knew she was being rude, flipping on the radio as soon as Danse had offered his polite placation, but she absolutely did not want to engaging in _that_ particular discussion. If she had admitted the truth that no one, save Nick, had been privy to, that she had shot Kellogg without so much as a signal of provocation, it would make the situation even more real. How he had stood in front of her merely taunting, not so much as a weapon in his hands at the time that as she pulled the trigger. It would have been tragic in itself, she could have claimed it was a slip of the hand or poor trigger control, had Kellogg not fought back. She didn't even slow her assault as the man tried to disappear before her with every conceivable chance to finding Shaun. 

A part of her was certain that if she truly told her friends what exactly had transpired at Fort Hagen, they would abandon her. It wasn’t a pretty sight, her blowing through the place with all the tenacity and destruction of a hurricane, only to gun down the very man she was hell-bent on taking her revenge out on. The thought of telling Danse exactly _how_ out of her mind she’d been, with her fury driving her every step, seemed too much like a confession.

Regardless, she kept it to herself, not willing to compromise the trust he had so foolishly placed in her. She knew it was selfish, dragging him along when he didn’t know the full gravity of her sins, but the thought of him leaving tore at her stomach like heated coals.

They encountered nothing more than a few group of blood bugs and stingwings, careful to avoid many of the valleys harboring radscorpions and ferals that Danse had fortunately been able to identify from a distance that she would have been more than foolish to walked straight into. Their exchanges were short and to the point, and for once Nora was relieved for the rigid professionalism.

It wasn’t until she noticed a collection of small metal buildings in the distance that she shut off the radio. The buildings were clearly crafted sometime in the last decade, a thought that inspired a fair amount of hope that Virgil might actually be nearby if people were living in the area.

“There’s actually people down here.” Nora breathed, noticing the figures of what actually appeared to be bonafide human-beings mulling in and out of the shacks.

“I can’t fathom what would possess anyone to take residence in such caustic terrain.” Danse answered, a clear hint of disapproval at the settlers living in close proximity to the gaping crater of neon green before them.

She almost laugh at the situation, because of course her best bet would be hiding in the very place where the bombs had hit. “I’m not particularly in the mood to question their motives if they can point us to Virgil.”

A man walked toward them, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the crater. Nora was struck by the nauseating green shade to his weathered skin, indicating his extensive exposure to what should have been fatal radiation.

“Atom will provide for us, sister.” He praised, raising his arms in salutation as he passed them. “The crater is the source of all that is right by our savior.”

“It’s clear these people aren’t in their right mind.” Danse chastised, his armored hand holding his rifle tighter as he regarded the retreating figure.

“You’re not wrong, but maybe let's not start with that when we talk to them, yeah?” She replied dryly, flabbergasted at the pure delusion the residents of the crater had clearly embraced as a way of life.

_I guess there’s not exactly school assemblies on the dangers of radiation anymore. No wonder there’s so many ferals in the area._

“Understood.” The answer offered her a bit of ease, but not much. There was no telling how receptive the residents would be of their presence and Nora wasn’t exactly in the mood to take on a village of irradiated settlers between the two of them.

“Halt, there outsider.” A woman appeared from the closest building, flanked by two men holding shotguns as she stepped in front of them.

_Well, being called outsider is never a good sign..._

Nora quickly scanned the area, noting that save for the two armed guards, no one else seemed to be carrying any sort of weapon. If worse came to worst and it came time to fight their way out, she was fairly certain that she and Danse would have the upper hand. Particularly considering that the model of shotgun the two men were carrying could only hold four shots at most. It was the same model she had trained on with her father as a teenager and she would have recognized it anywhere.

The woman narrowed her eyes as she looked to their chest plates. “What business does the Brotherhood of Steel have with Atom’s holy land?”

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more, that the Brotherhood’s reputation had made it’s way all they way to the crater’s residents or that the insane woman thought the site of a nuclear bomb was holy.

Nora rushed to answer before Danse could interject his undoubtedly contrarian opinion on the matter. “We’re looking for someone, a scientist named Virgil. Have you seen him?”

“We are familiar with this Virgil.” The woman answered, tensing at the mention of the man’s name. “What business do you have with him?”

“Civilian, I would caution you to cooperate with us on this matter.” Danse ordered, irritation marking his tone.

_I swear to fucking God, Danse, just shut up._

In an instant the woman turned to look at him, frowning. “I don’t take orders from disillusioned soldiers who can not fathom or respect the significance of our holy land.”

“I assure you, I can respect the significance of this place.” Nora quickly stepped forward, drawing the attention of their impromptu greeting party. The words weren’t a lie, per se, and it was clear that they needed to appeal to the residents. “This crater represents the last remains of the bombs dropped two centuries ago and that bomb is precisely very reason I’m standing here today. It’s the reason we’re all here, is it not? Had it not been for this place, who knows where we might be.”

_Alive and having Halloween with my family, for one._

Danse grumbled behind her at the words, but the woman relaxed briefly at the reassurance. “Very well. Truth be told, Virgil has caused some unrest with our citizens. Some people find his presence here to be an affront to Atom.”

“How so?” She asked, surprised at her tone of disdain.

“Let’s just say they believe his presence here makes a mockery of our faith. You will find him living in a cave a couple miles directly south of here. Why he wants to live in the cave, I couldn’t tell you.” The woman answered, eyeing Danse cautiously. “That being said, I will not tolerate any violence toward him nor any of my residents. Are we clear?”

“Yes ma’am. You have my word.” Nora promised firmly as she extended an armored hand instinctively. “Knight Nora Hartt. Pleased to meet you.”

The woman froze, looking down at the offering in shock before awkwardly taking the hand. “Sister Rachel... You two stay out of trouble.”

Rachel quickly dropped the hand and turned back to Danse with a brief warning glare before starting toward another building in the distance.

“Well that could have gone smoother.” He muttered, adjusting his grip on the rifle.

“Seriously?” Nora objected, turning toward him. “You know intimidation isn’t the only way to get answers, some situations need a bit of finesse.”

“I... I will admit that is not one of my strong suits.” Danse agreed, looking around at the nearby buildings.

“ _No?_ I’m shocked by that revelation.” The sarcastic tone came out more irritated than she’d intended. She quickly tried to switch gears, changing to a more playful demeanor. “Well, maybe I’ll have to teach you a thing or two about finesse later.”

_Jesus that came out way more flirtatious than intended, and alcohol wasn’t even involved this time... Shit._

Nora quickly swallowed, unsure what she could possibly say to take the words back, and started toward the direction Rachel had indicated. Despite the internal cooling mechanisms in the suit, she was astutely aware of how warm she felt, afflicted by the combination of increased radiation levels and embarrassment. She wondered which of the two was contributing more strongly to her change in temperature, but figured there was no point in entertaining such a thought.

Danse stood frozen for several moments longer than was necessary, undoubtedly mortified at her flirtation, before following behind her, scanning the various buildings as they headed south. The rocky terrain looked near identical to everything else around it, bearing no distinguishing features to indicate a possible hideout therein.

There was no more than a few misplaced boulders to gauge if they were even headed in the right direction, and not simply walking in circles. Nora checked the PipBoy, hoping for any clues as to where the secret cave entrance might be, relieved that they still appeared to be headed south after over thirty minutes of unbearably silent walking. Even Diamond City Radio didn’t reach as far out as they were.

She looked up quickly, squinting in the distance. “Sister Rachel had said ‘directly south’. What do you think, does that look directly south enough for you?”

In front of the pair stood a looming cliff, a worn path in the stone barely perceptible at their distance, a small faded orange traffic cone with a ‘STOP’ sign sticking out by the entrance of said path.

“It certainly seems obscure enough of a feature, given the surrounding terrain.” Danse answered, his voice cool and guarded in a way that was reminiscent of their first meeting.

“Thanks for the riveting observation.” She muttered, his forced professionalism grating against her already frayed nerves as she stomped away. As much as the change had bothered her, it wasn’t worth considering when her best lead into the Institute was only yards away.

_It was probably that stupid fucking comment about finesse. What the hell is wrong with you? T_ _hink about Shaun_ _, you son_ , _not some stupid flirting that went wrong, Jesus._

Nora shook her head, as if the quick motion would actually shake the thought away. Danse had been silent, not hearing her comment or not caring enough to dignify a response as they trekked up the worn path. Before she could enter the cave, he moved in front of her, scanning the darkened stone entrance as he completely blocked her view.

“Jesus Danse, just step right in front of me why don’t you.” She snapped as he started forward painfully slow. He tensed at that, straightening as he turned his head toward her, his eyes barely visible through the visor.

“Would you prefer to be first in the door when sneaking into the residence of a rogue Institute scientist, who was so afraid that an unscrupulous mercenary would come to assassinate him, that he determined hiding all the way out here was the safest course of action?” He stated plainly, as if discussing tato crops or the weather. Nora faltered, cocking her head at the thorough argument.

“Better me than you.” Her answer was sudden, as she confidently moved to step in front of Danse. “I didn’t drag you out here to get killed.”

“You didn’t drag me out here at all.” Danse insisted, moving to reclaim his position. Nora quickly placed her hand on his chest plate, preventing his movement firmly, before turning and making her way down the cave entrance.

_I’m not willing to lose you, idiot._

The thought struck something in her chest at the revelation. It was something blessedly painful and comforting in one, but she knew it wasn't a feeling she could entertain for the time being.

*

Danse watched hopelessly as Nora carefully stepped through the darkened cave, knowing better than to insist he take the lead on such a deeply personal mission for her. Still, watching her trek head first into unknown danger made him significantly more anxious than he was comfortable being.

She made sure to stop and listen for movement every few feet as they headed deeper inside. It made him proud, in a way, to see that she was being so cautious when enroaching on an unfamiliar and undoubtedly hostile environment. As foolish as she had been back at the church, had the place not held such significance for her, he knew she never would have made such a grievous miscalculation.

At the end of the day, she could hold her own, not just in a firefight but on more complex missions as well. He thanked every Elder who had ever graced the Brotherhood for upholding the policy that all Knights must be accompanied by at least one other soldier regardless of their acumen, because he was certain had Maxson seen Nora work in the field the way he had, he’d be more than confident that Danse’s supervision was just a formality.

The thought of being removed from accompanying her on missions sent a shock to his system, even more jarring than the first time he’d had a refrigerated Nuka Quantum after an entire lifetime of drinking them warm. The near-ice cold, fizzing drink bubbling in his gut had nothing on the pit that opened up at the thought of Nora braving the wasteland alone.

He was becoming more and more aware that there was something less than decent about his concern for her, but it wasn’t something he knew how to put into words. It didn’t help that she insisted on making comments that someone less regimented than he might take as an invitation for something more, as opposed to just an idle jest. Even more, he didn’t have the faintest clue about how to respond to such flirtatious joking, having fairly limited experience with the fairer sex save for a few awkward encounters in his teen years.

And that was not even considering what Elder Maxson would say had he heard Nora directing such comments to a superior officer. At the very least, she’d be removed from his squad, at the most she could be removed from the Brotherhood as a whole for insubordination if the Elder was feeling particularly harsh.

Just as Danse decided to have a conversation with her about such comments, he felt an arm reach in front of him, stopping his movements.

Nora quickly knelt to a device on the floor, flipping open her arm plate and shining the faint light of her PipBoy on a metallic device in the corner.

_A trip wire._

Before he could interject, he saw her pull something from the side, the faint glint of metal in her fingers as she brought her hand away. He sucked in a quick breath, anticipating an explosion or alarm to indicate it had been activated, but heard no such thing.

“Well they don’t teach that in boot camp.” Danse muttered, curious about where she would learn such a strange skill.

Nora straightened quickly and turned toward him. “Picked that up from a friend. I’m just glad it worked...”

“Hold it! Take it nice and slow, no sudden moves!” The voice growled, deeper than any human could have possibly managed.

A sense of dread and hatred shot through him instantly and he jolted forward, his progress only halted by the sudden metallic strike of Nora’s armored arm against his chest. She moved directly in front of him, her bulking armored figure blocking his chance at a clear shot at the disgusting mutant apparently lurking inside the cave, at least not without posing a significant danger to her in the process.

The voice continuing, unaware of the near fatal exchange. “I know you're from the Institute, so where's Kellogg? Huh? Trying to sneak up on me while you distract me? It's not going to work! I'm not stupid, I knew they'd send him after me!”

“Take it easy, Virgil!” Nora ordered, her voice deeper and more authoritative than Danse had ever heard it, rivaling even Maxson’s imposing air of command, despite still being octaves higher. “Kellogg's dead. I'm just here to talk. No one needs to get hurt here.”

The silence was nerve-wracking as Danse half expected the mutant to coming charging toward them. Every ounce of his body was screaming to push her behind him and open fire, but doing so would compromise whatever meager chance Nora had at finding her son, and that wasn’t something he could risk.

“You better talk fast then, stranger.” The mutant answered, his tone wavering slightly. “And come around the corner slowly.”

“Okay.” She quickly agreed, dropping Righteous to her side as she raised her other arm in surrender. “My name is Nora Hartt. I’m here with a friend and we mean you no harm, but we are wearing Power Armor, so I don’t want you to be startled.”

“Very well... Slow movements though.” Virgil insisted as Nora slowly stepped around the corner, relaxing as she slowly lowered her arm. “What do you want with me?”

“I-I need to find a way inside the Institute. I know you got away from them, I just need to know how.” Nora answered, still keeping a firm grip on her rifle at her side, a fact that only reassured Danse slightly.

At the sight of the mutant ‘Virgil’ standing in front of them in a makeshift lab, notably empty-handed of any potential weapons, Danse felt suddenly ill. It was a profoundly uncomfortable sensation to watch one of the very creatures that killed Cutler speak so coherently to them, still wearing glasses, albeit they were poorly attached to his head. The juxtaposition of the former-man’s shreds of humanity competing with his mutilated flesh sent his head spinning in a way he wasn’t sure how to began processing.

“What the hell do you want to get into the Institute for? Have you lost your mind?” Virgil demanded, incredulous as he stared at them.

_Obviously._

Nora removed her helmet slowly, a sad smirk playing on her lips as she watched the scientist before her. “They kidnapped my son... and I will stop at nothing to get him back. I thought Kellogg was my best chance, but he was a dead end, literally. I know he was looking for you, so now you’re my best chance. Do we understand each other here, Virgil?”

The unspoken threat hung in the air only briefly before Virgil sighed, nodding. “I wish I could say I’m surprised that they would take a child, but quite frankly, I’m not... First thing's first. You know how synths get in and out of the Institute?”

“They teleport somehow. We saw it happen back at ArcJet a couple months ago. I hope that’s not the big secret.” She replied confidently, clenching her jaw only briefly at the mention of their previous mission.

“You’ve certainly done your homework. Not many know about that, and those who see it don’t usually live to tell the tale.” Virgil frowned, bringing the flesh where his eyebrows should have been together in thought. “The only way inside the Institute from the outside would be a Courser.”

“Courser?” She prodded, her tone still guarded in distrust.

Danse watched the exchange between the pair, not able to speak without screaming as every instinct in his body told him to put ‘Virgil’ out of his misery and get the hell out of the blasted cave.

“Coursers are Institute synths. Think of your normal early-generation synth and multiple their abilities in battle by a thousand. They were designed to be killing machines to tackle any problem. Missing synths, botched operations, whatever you can think of, they go in to kill everyone and return Institute property.” He explained, turning back toward them holding a holotape in his hand. “If you’re really so set on getting into the Institute, you’re going to have to kill one.”

Nora nodded, setting her shoulders in defiance. “In the last few months I’ve managed to kill a Deathclaw, an Assaultron, a Sentrybot and Conrad Kellogg. I’m not afraid of some lab-grown war machine”

Virgil paused, briefly considering her claims. “You’re certainly confident, I hope you’re really as good as you say. I’ve seen Coursers wipe out entire settlements without so much as a hair out of place. Nonetheless, you’re going to need to get the device from inside their head.”

“Excuse me?” She asked carefully, blinking at the statement. “Coursers are just... people?”

“No, Coursers are Generation 3 synths, created in a lab. They look and sound identical to human beings, but make no mistake, they’re not.” He warned, fiddling with the holotap in his hand. “Every Courser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to a Molecular Relay inside the Institute. It pulls you apart atom by atom and rebuilds you once you're inside. There’s a massive signal range with the Coursers, but your best bet is to find one at the CIT ruins, it where the signal is strongest. Find some sort of modifiable radio and track the signal from there.”

Lifting her arm to flip open the panel, she pointed to the device inside. “Would a PipBoy work?”

“Without a doubt... Now, before I give you the rest of this information, I need you to promise to do something for me.” Virgil clutched the holotape tightly, squaring his shoulders toward them. Danse could feel his anger boil over at the manipulative attempt of blackmail and he exploded.

“We don’t take orders from you, mutant.” He seethed, stepping forward as Nora shot him a look of her own fury.

“You help me, and I'll help you.” Without breaking her stare at Danse, she replied carefully. “I’m a woman of my word, if what you’re requesting is doable, I’ll do it.”

"Before I was forced to leave, I was working on a serum to reverse this mutation. I was forced out before I could finish it, and in the rush I left it in my old laboratory... It's in the bioscience division and it's my only hope to going back to normal. If you actually manage to get inside the Institute, I need that serum before it's too late." There was a pleading in Virgil’s tone that only served to infuriate Danse further, but under Nora’s withering glare he remained silence.

“I’ll get you that serum, Virgil.” She promised, allowing her eyes a moment of vulnerabilty at her words, slowly turning to look back at the scientist.

“I hope you mean what you say... Well, as promised.” Virgil extended the holotape toward Nora who instantly grabbed it. “Once you get the Courser’s chip, you’re going to have to find a way to break the encoding on it. Then you’ll have to build a Molecular Relay of your own... It won’t be easy, but I hope it works. For both our sakes.”

“Thank you, Virgil. I’ll see you on the other side.” She quipped, recomposing her expression in a mere second. In a dramatic flourish she forced a smile to her lips and turned to face Danse once more. “Ready to go, Paladin?”

The title seemed to convey the very thing he always intended when he’d used her own official Brotherhood rank.

_Not right now, it’s not the time. Just play the part until we’re clear from here._

He offered a curt nod as Nora replaced her helmet and outstretched an arm toward the entrance in direction. Without another word, the pair slipped out, only looking back toward Virgil once before disappearing into the Glowing Sea.

Once outside the cave entrance, Danse allowed himself a brief chance to actually breath, feeling significantly safer in the irradiated wasteland than in a confined space with a supermutant, no matter how amicable he was pretending to be. He turned to face Nora, desperately trying to meet her eyes behind their visor.

“I know what you're thinking.” Her voice rushed, clearly distraught from their encounter, though he couldnt ascertain exactly why. “But you knew from day one where my priorities lie.”

The sudden defense took him by surprise, for once regretting the protective cover of the Power Armor because he could no longer see her face to clarify what she was trying to convey. “I have no doubt of your priorities and my support of such motives does not waver.

Nora’s eyes softened, the obvious movement even visible behind the cracked glass of the visor. “I don’t know how to thank you for that... I don’t know why you’d anchor yourself to this sinking ship.”

Danse paused only long enough for the words to pop into his head, so reminiscent of everything that they were, but so profoundly different from the first time he’d heard them. “My word is my bond.”

“Looks like I’m having a good effect on you after all.” She answered with a laugh, and he could only dream of the wide smile she sported with such a joyous sound. “Thank you... I can’t say say that enough.”

He suddenly felt her attention turn to him with an overabundance of appreciation he was thoroughly unprepared to manage. People didn’t typically thank the Brotherhood, and when they did it always felt forced and awkward. To have someone express such deep appreciation for him simply accompanying her on a journey was all together different.

_Well, she’s not just someone, is she?_

Before he could register the ever-so pestering voice in his head, he heard a blood-curdling roar behind him accompanied by the sound of heavy steps. He was only able to hear enough to recognize Nora’s voice, terribly contorted in a terrified scream as he felt a strong grip around his chest. In an instant he was facing the sky, the sun still bright against the green fog engulfing their surroundings.

_A Deathclaw-_

The recognition of the terrifying creature was cut short as he felt himself surprisingly weightless, soaring over the scorched ground below. He felt the impact before he could register what had happened, gasping in pain as his armor made contact with the hardened ground in a grunt.

The echo of gunfire he had heard while flying through the air was surprising absent, despite it’s previous torrent. He looked around, his head swimming with a thousand thoughts that didn’t involve a Deathclaw, the Glowing Sea, or the immediate danger undoubtedly not too far off surprisingly gone from memory.

A faint voice called to him as he closed his eyes, a sense of familiarity and comfort in the words. The woman looked down at him with a kindness he couldn’t quite place, her brown eyes softening as she worried at the apparent injury on his arm.

The sudden thought that he was in trouble consumed him and he looked away, not wanting to disappoint the woman.

“Now, did you go and get yourself hurt again? You know I get so worried about you, M7...” The cheerful woman let out a gentle laugh, pulling on his arm gently.

They walked for several minutes before a door closed behind them with a click.

The older woman, smiled at him slyly. “Now, don’t go making everyone else jealous, but I got you some snack cakes. How about we patch you up, hon? You’re quite the little explorer, aren’t you?”

There was something achingly familiar at the voice that Danse couldn’t quite place, like something was preventing him from exploring the memory further. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have strange flashes of dreams, ones that he always credited as injury or alcohol induced.

He tried hopelessly to recall any events beyond the warm, older woman’s voice as she let him into an immaculately clean bedroom and guided him to a bed.

The sight was breathtaking, a cleanliness he’d never known before, but why did the white walls strike a shock of anxiety through him?

“You’re always worrying me, M7... You have to be careful, you’re not like them. You’re like me, flesh and bone.” The woman urged, quickly cleaning his injured arm and bandaging it.

Blinking suddenly, he opened his eyes with a start, the sound of heavy steps towering toward him in an instant. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the Deathclaw lift him into the air once more, having apparently found his resting place.

_Nora? Where is Nora?_

The thought startled enough of a rush through him to swing at the mutated creature, cursing under his breath as the creature shook him.

“You motherfucker!” He heard her voice curse, followed by the sudden sound of laser fire.

_My Knight in a shining vault suit._

As soon as he recognized her voice, he felt weightless once more, the Deathclaw apparently dropping him as he turned to the sound of a furious Nora. He would have felt bad for the recipient of such rage, had the creature not been trying to kill him moments before.

Danse felt the sudden impact as his body came in contact with the unforgiving ground once more, a final image of the mysterious woman passing through his thoughts momentarily as everything faded to black.

*

Almost as soon as they had made their way outside of Virgil’s cave, Nora had watched Danse get yanked up by a horrifyingly large Deathclaw, only to be unceremoniously flung into the distance like a ragdoll. The looming figure roared as it tossed him away with no indication of a struggle.

If she thought the Deathclaw back in Concord had been terrifyingly oversized, the creature before her looked like a giant in comparison to his smaller brethren. There was a steadfast panic growing in her throat that she couldn’t contain, firing instantly at the creature as it turned to her. She could feel her chest tightening at the thought of Danse laying somewhere injured, a victim to whatever god-awful monsters might happen upon her.

Nora was only slight aware of her mounting rage, beating the Deathclaw in the side of the head as he lifted her up and began striking against her helmet in a motion that only disoriented her further. The creature seemed to have an endless supply of energy, not so much as tiring as it pummeled her helmet with ease. After striking the creature in the side of the head for about the tenth time, it dropped her.

By some miracle, she managed to catch herself and rise back to a stand as she struggled to breathe from the sudden impact. In the distance Nora could hear an angry yelling, which the Deathclaw quickly took to, running off in the distance. Any semblance of relief she felt was replaced by the sudden realization of the direction the creature had run.

_Danse._

Before emotion could give way to reason, she took off behind the creature, only slowing to reload as she unleashed a volley on the monster’s backside.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw the glisten of Power Armor in the monster’s hand, knowing without a doubt who the gnarled claws had clenched in their grasp.

"You motherfucker!” She cursed, aiming for the creature's head as best she could.

The resulting thud as the Deathclaw threw the gleaming figure into the distance once more nearly made her faint.

“Fuck you!” She cursed, firing toward the animal’s upper chest and head area as it turned to her, praying that her shots were hitting their intended target.

The creature only staggered momentarily before crashing to the ground in an instant. Nora didn’t even care if the monster was truly dead, seeing it crumbled against the burnt ground was answer enough for her to take off, running with all the speed she could muster toward where she had last seen Danse fly through the air.

The sight of the limp armored figure inspired an uprising of bile to form in her throat as she stared at the crumbled metal in horror. She was desperately trying to ignore the pessimistic voice screaming in her head, hoping the Power Armor was enough to protect him from his injuries.

The flash sunlight against the of metal drew her in instantly as she rushed to his side, biting back a sob at lack of movement.

In an instant, she released the Power Armor frame, and pulled him out of the crumbled metal, checking his pulse for any sign of life. The gasp that escaped her throat was the only sound she could hear as she felt the steady heartbeat against her fingers.

“Don’t fucking die on me Danse.” She muttered, quickly searching through the frame of his armor as she pulled out the medical kit and injecting him with a hefty dose of Med-X. When applying the stim she hesitated, trying hopelessly to remember what Hancock had told her about how to heal brain injuries. “Dear God, if you’re actually up there and you let this man die I will march into Heaven and overthrow you myself.”

Danse let out a shuttering breath, his heart rate slowing to normal as he relaxed slightly against her hand. Not bothering to so much as look back at the Power Armor behind her, Nora lifted him to her chest, heading off in the opposite direct of the cave.

_Someone has to be in this direction. There were the Crater residents nearby, and that farm from earlier was somewhere over here, right?_

Her heart beat was the only thing pushing her further as time moved imperceptibly around her, and she was ever thankful for the added strength of the armor as she carried Danse’s unconscious figure over the hill. She let out a small, hysterical laugh as she saw the farmhouse in the distance. A part of her was away that she had been traveling for longer than she realized, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she pushed to the settlement, hoping Preston had been by recently for his ‘Join The Minutemen’ speech.

At the sight of the Minuteman himself, she let out a heartfelt sob, dropping to her knees with Danse still in her arms as Preston ran toward her.

“General?” The voice asked as full blown hysterical sobs overtook her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been sitting on Danse's story for 27 Chapters and it has been EATING me.


	28. A Wonderful Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I am in a conventional dither,  
> With a conventional star in my eye.  
> And you will note there's a lump in my throat  
> When I speak of that wonderful guy!'

“Give him to me.” Preston urged, pulling at Danse’s unconscious form still cradled in her arms. At the movement, Nora clung tightly to his upper arm, staring intently at the bright orange fabric of the flight suit, not willing to release him, even to her fellow Minutemen. “We need to get him inside, there’s a rad storm blowing in... Nora!”

With a jump, she looked up to her friend, trying hopelessly to focus on the words he was saying. Her mind was screaming at her to run and get out of danger, still muddled from the adrenaline dump as she came down from the unwanted high.

After a few moments, she blinked up a Preston, finally registering what he had said. It took every ounce of will she had to let go of Danse and relinquish his unconscious figure to her friend. She vaguely noticed that the previous rise and fall of his chest, reassuring against her armored hand, was painfully absent as the Minutemen lifted him from where she had previously collapsed with him, just at the edge of the settlement’s sparse cornfield.

After quickly exiting her Power Armor, Nora was only a quarter step behind Preston as he carried Danse into the closest building, the settlers disappearing in an instant as the trio entered.

"What the hell did you get yourself into, Nora?” Preston demanded, placing Danse onto a nearby mattress in what looked like a make-shift clinic. He worked quickly, checking for any visible bleeding through the fabric to indicate potential injuries. Nora could feel her raspy breaths catch in her throat as she tried to collect herself, the flesh of which had become worn down from her earlier screaming and sobs.

“Deathclaw.” She gasped finally, watching as Preston checked Danse’s eyes and pulse with a frown that only escalated her anxiety further.

“Never knew a Deathclaw to leave someone in one piece.” He muttered, examining the bruising that had begun along Danse’s cheek. “I assume he was wearing Power Armor.”

She nodded silently, trying to slow her racing pulse as she watched her friend work. Her head was searing with pain as she moved to sit in the chair situated by the head of the mattress, staring at Danse’s unconscious face, his eyelids fluttering only slightly as she took her seat next to him.

“What’d you give him?” Preston inquired, hand pausing over the visible needle pricks on the other man’s collarbone as he worked.

“Stim and Med-X.” She answered breathlessly, terrified that she had administered them incorrectly. Despite the last two months traveling the wasteland, she never had to administer the medications to anyone besides herself, and certainly never on anyone unconscious. There was no way of knowing if the doses had been effective.

“Good call... I’d say he just has a concussion, his vitals seem steady. He’s probably just going to need to rest for a few days.” He reassured, sighing as he pulled his hand away.

She could feel the relief begin to pour out of her as she let out a shaky breath, Preston turning to face her. “Holy shit! Nora, you’re bleeding.”

The exclamation instantly drew her attention to her own injuries that she had apparently overlooked in her panic. She looked down, noting the large red stain on her own shirt as she touched her chin which was throbbing furiously.

“I didn’t even notice.” The words were barely more than a mumble as she examined the fresh blood against her fingers.

“Adrenaline will do that.” Preston chided, moving to grab a large bowl, a rag, and a can of water that he immediately offered to her. Pointing to her head, he added, “Looks like you got hit in the head too.”

“Yeah, I fell through a roof earlier... That was before the Deathclaw.” She explained, remembering the incident at the church only hours before as she took the damp rag and tried cleaning herself hastily.

“You _what_? What the hell were you two doing?” He complained, grabbing a first aid box from the cabinet behind him. As he turned, she looked up at him with a frown. “Oh shit, you went to go find your lead down in the Glowing Sea. Did you find them?”

Nora looked down at her hands as she wrung the bloodied rag out into the bowl, thinking about the insane events of the day. “Yeah, we found him.”

“And?” Preston prompted as he pulled out a stimpak and uncapped it. He quickly moved toward her, gesturing to her chin which she offered up toward him. Even she wasn’t foolish enough to try and inject a Stimpak on herself, not when the wounds were located so blatantly on her face.

“I might have a way inside the Institute.” At the prick of the needle against her chin she winced, jerking back from the pain as he quickly injected the medicine. “I’ll be honest, it’s a hell of a leap, but I’ll try anything that gets me closer to finding Shaun. I have a holotape with some sort of information about a device I’ll need to build, I guess. Didn’t really have a chance to review it... I was going to ask Sturges to take a look at it, actually.”

Preston froze, scanning her face with a guarded expression. “I can ask if he’d be willing to take a look.”

“Why wouldn’t he? He loves studying all sorts of tech.” Nora narrowed her eyes as she watched her friend shift uncomfortably.

“Sturges doesn’t like getting involved with anything regarding the Institute.” He defended, his tone quicker than normal as he cautioned a glance toward Danse’s sleeping figure.

It was clear he was hiding something, and had she not already been put through the wringer, she might have been a decent enough person not to call him on it. But as her head throbbed and her worry about the true extent of Danse’s head injury still nagged at her, despite her friend’s reassurance of it being ‘just’ a concussion, her decency wavered.

“What aren’t you telling me, Garvey?” She accused, grinding her teeth as she cocked her head at him in defiance.

The man let out a heavy sigh, scanning the doorway before leaning closer to her in whisper. “Sturges has a particular... history with the Institute. I don’t know if he’ll want to put a target on his back again by snooping through their tech.”

The realization of Preston's words hit her like a truck, mouth falling open as she stared at her friend.

“Oh, _shit_... I see.” It was no secret that there were synths walking among them, being wholly unidentifiable from their fellow humans save for some sort of chip in their head. Hell, Magnolia was one herself as she was just as much a woman as Nora was, if not more so.

After explaining how the newest generation of synths were causing public unrest, Nick had been sure to tell her the Institute only implanted the damn chips themselves after ‘creating’ the synths, as a means of controlling them when they behaved outside their ‘expected duties’. She kicked herself for not expecting that some more of her friends might be synths as well, and offered a weak smile in response.

“That’s not going to be a problem, I hope...” Preston warned, his tone protective, just as it had been when he guarded the settlers against the encroaching Raiders back when they’d first met in Concord months before.

“Of course not. You know I love you guys, his history doesn’t make a difference, at least not to me.” She whispered the last words, shooting Danse’s sleeping figure a quick glance.

Preston followed her gaze and nodded quickly, understanding her meaning. “I’ll ask him about that holotape though, better for us to have that information, as opposed to certain _other_ groups ofpeople.”

Nora narrowed her eyes briefly at the comment, wondering if he was referring to the Brotherhood specifically or just in general. To be fair, the Brotherhood of Steel made their stance on synths abundantly clear; it was something that had never quite sat right with her. She had hoped that Sturges would be able to figure out how to get the teleporter up and running, not wanting to get involved in whatever scheme the Brotherhood would cook up with the information on the holotape.

For all she knew, they’d teleport inside and burn the whole place to the ground before she could even get a chance to find Shaun. But in the same regard, they _were_ more than likely her best bet at finding him as soon as possible, given their extensive resources. She knew that she would have to make a decision about whether or not to share the information with the Brotherhood at some point, especially given that Danse was already aware of the existence of the information on the tape.

“I appreciate it, but make sure he know there’s no pressure.” She stated finally, watching the rise and fall of Danse’s chest as he slept, her thoughts drifting to the events of the day once more.

As if sensing her sudden change of focus, Preston cleared his throat, moving toward the doorway. “I’ll let you two be, I gotta see Mary-Anne about some Minutemen business. Dinner should be ready soon, though.”

“Thanks Preston.” She mumbled, as she adjusted the armchair closer to the side of the bed, studying the purple bruise along Danse’s cheek as the fellow Minutemen disappeared from view.

Almost instinctively, Nora reached forward to caress the side of his cheek, hesitating briefly as her hand hovered over his face before yanking it back to her side. It wasn’t _right,_ she insisted, to touch him in such an affectionate way. She didn’t know why it was so easy to fall into such a state of sudden comfort around him, like they were anything more than friends and comrades. Their bond had been near instantaneous, and she thought of how second nature it was to reach out for him when they were together, clinging to the contact like he was her lifeboat in the storm that was her life.

A stab of guilt struck through her heart, thinking of Nate and how she was able to all but forget him at times. It wasn’t that she didn’t still miss him and love him dearly. Hell, her husband’s memory was the only thing that kept her going half the time when she was traveling alone, having wanted to curl up in a ball and just give up more times that she'd like to admit.

But when she was with Danse, it felt like she actually had a chance to find her son in the hellscape that was her former home. He made her feel invincible and supported, like nothing in the world could stop them when they were working together. For whatever misguided reason, he had anchored himself to her, promising that they’d find Shaun, going so far as to cover for her, shielding her true motives from the very organization he espoused with every fiber of his being.

Nora wasn’t so ignorant to think that healing was linear, or that grief had a set time frame for anyone. Just like anything, it was a deeply personal and varied response, depending on a variety of factors that no one could quite predict. She had gone through all five stages of grief within the first 24 hours of leaving the Vault, refusing to ruminate on something she couldn’t change, certainly not when her son was still missing. But accepting what you can’t change was wholly different from being able to move past something.

_I took a round for him and this is his big, noble way of trying to pay the debt he thinks he owes me. This is just trauma bonding, that’s all..._

_It doesn’t help that he an attractive man and he’s blindly following you along as you tear through the Commonwealth trying to find Shaun. Or that he shows concern for your safety. Or notices when you’re struggling and grounds you back into reality..._

Trying to sort out what she was thinking and feeling was torture, especially after the stress of the day had exhausted her defenses. Nora cradled her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the edge of the mattress as she slammed her eyes closed. She could feel the exhaustion pulling at her heavy eyelids, clouding her mind as the tendrils of sleep wound their way through her thoughts.

It was mere moments later when she rested her head against her bicep, curled up against the mattress, as she was lulled away into sleep.

*

Danse could hear voices around him whispering faintly, but he wasn’t able to make out their words. He was instantly aware that he wasn’t on the Prydwen nor was he anywhere he had been before, and just as he could feel the panic rise in his chest as being asleep in an unfamiliar location, Nora’s voice broke through his hazy thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have brought him all the way out here. You _said_ he’d be better in a couple days, but he’s still asleep!” She snapped, her whispering tone harsh and angry.

“No, I said a _few_ days. You can’t rush these things, Nora.” The voice answered patiently.

There was something familiar about the other voice that Danse couldn’t quite place, but it didn’t cause him any immediate alarm, which was a good sign at least. He was trying desperately to get his limbs to work or force his eyes to open, but all of his attempts proved futile.

Nora took a shaky breath, her apparent distress drawing his immediate attention. “I’m a horrible person... I shouldn’t have let him come with me all the way down there. I-I could have snuck away or lied to him or... but now he’s unconscious and who knows if he’ll even wake up.”

Danse could hear her gasp, a small sob that she quickly tried to stifle. The sound of her in such a state of anxious worry tore at him, and he wanted nothing more than to reassure her that he was fine, he was just sleeping and there was no need for her to fret over him.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit here. Besides, I don’t get the impression Danse is a man who can be easily swayed from doing what he feels is right.” The other man’s voice answered, gentle and reassuring, and Danse wanted to thank him endlessly for being the voice of reason in the moment.

“I knew it was dangerous but I didn’t care, because... I don’t know, I just wanted him there with me.” Nora whispered, her tone forlorn at the words. Any joy he might have felt at Nora confessing that she had wanted him with her was immediately crushed by her obvious guilt over his alleged injuries. “And now, I might’ve gotten him killed, Preston... I’m so fucking selfish.”

_Preston... That’s the Minuteman from Cambridge._

“No, you’re not.” Preston answered with an obvious sigh. “I’m not a betting man, but I’m willing to bet your Danse here would follow you to the ends of the Earth. Because, and believe me when I say this, you’re one of the good guys, Nora.”

“No, I’m not.” She answered firmly, an empty, humor-less laugh teasing at the back of her throat. Danse could feel sleep staring to yank on his mind once more, as he desperately tried to fight it. He wanted to tell Nora he was perfectly well, but focusing on the exchange was getting ever more difficult by the second.

“Yes, you are. Most people are just out for themselves, one way or another, but you make it a point to help every you meet. I had a couple come up to Sanctuary just the other day, because you asked them if they needed anything, after running into them over by Bunker Hill.” Preston let out a surprised breath. “They said you just walked up to them, asked if they were okay, and gave them some water.”

“Hannah and Maria.” Nora said suddenly, her tone instantly lightened at the mention of the women. “They made it to Sanctuary?”

“Yeah, they did. Because of you.” The other man reassured.

The story caused a swell of pride to bloom in Danse’s chest at the recount of the seemingly endless good deeds Nora was so prone to dispensing across the Commonwealth. As he was fighting to say something, to interject that she _was_ a good person, his mind began to get fuzzy, exhaustion overtaking him once more as the conversation faded away.

By the time he awoke again, the room was notably warmer. He could immediately discern it was daylight out now, from the brightness permeating through his eyelids and the bustle of people moving around in the distance. With all the strength he could muster, he peeled his eyes open, blinking the room into focus from the harsh blurs that initially formed.

He quickly took note of the man sitting in the chair across from him, reading an old book who’s cover was completely worn off from the perils of time. As soon as Danse tried to sit up, wincing at the pounding in his head, Preston turned to him with a jump.

“Whoa, easy there, man. You been out cold a couple of days now.” The man rushed to stand, grabbing a can of water and a bundle of fabric that he placed on the side table with a nod. “Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings.”

“Where’s Nora.” Danse demanded, scanning the room that was disappointingly vacant, besides the two of them. He started to turn his body to climb out of bed, but before he could react, Preston was in front of him, placing his hand gently on his shoulder, guiding him to lay back down with minimal effort.

“Oh no you don’t, Paladin. If Nora finds out that I let you out of bed and had you walking around, she would kick my ass into next Tuesday. And no offense, but I don’t think we’d make very good bunk mates.” Preston let out a small chuckle at the thought, shaking his head as the other man glowered at him.

“I can assure you, Garvey. I am in full control of my faculties. Where is Nora?” He insisted, frowning as he tried to listen for her outside.

“Hey, it's all good, man. She’s okay, she’s just outside. Trust me, she needs the fresh air after the last couple days.” Preston reassured, pointing the the water and bundle of what Danse assumed was some sort of food on the side table. “You should try to eat something, get your strength up.”

“I suppose I could use some sustenance...” Danse agreed with a sigh, taking the bundle which contained a hearty helping of what he guessed was some Brahmin jerky. He quickly opened the can of water, suddenly all too aware of how thirsty he was.

Preston settled back into the chair, reclaiming the book propped open against the seat. As he caught Danse watching him quizzically, he sighed before answering the question. “Listen, I don’t want to be sitting here any more than you, but someone had to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m not in need of supervision, nor am I a child in need of a babysitter.” He grumbled as he took a bite of the jerky, which was surprisingly tender.

“Nora insisted.” Garvery retorted, flipping the page of his book with a shrug. “Far be it from me to turn down a day off.”

“She was really that concerned?” Danse blurted, his stomach feeling suddenly anxious. _Probably just the Brahmin jerky, it might not have been cured correctly..._ He hadn’t meant to ask, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew the answer. The other man looked over in surprise, closing his book once more as he turned to face him.

“Are you kidding? She barely left your side for the past two and half days. Hell, she slept in the chair at night, even if only for a couple hours... “ Preston explained, and the idea of Nora keeping such close watch over him made Danse feel weightless in a way he’d never imagined could be pleasurable, so starkly different from the terrifying sensation of being manhandled by the particularly ornery Deathclaw. ”The only way I got her out of that chair was by telling her one of the generators needed repairs.”

Danse frowned, draining the final sip from the can of water. “I don’t understand.”

“I told her I didn’t know how to fix it.” The man answered with a mischievous smirk.

“But you do.” He stated, suddenly catching onto what Preston was saying.

“Yeah of course. I’m a wasteland boy, born and raised.” The Minuteman watched him with an amused smile that the Paladin briefly returned.

“I see. Were you also the one who rendered the generators in need of such repairs?” Danse’s accusation caused Garvey to laugh, a heart happy sound, shaking his head in response.

“Maybe we’ll never know.” He offered, straightening his hat as he stood. “I’m going to find Nora, try not to hurt yourself in the next five minutes, alright?”

“I’ll do my best.” He grumbled, chewing the last piece of jerking from the bundle as Preston disappeared. No more than thirty seconds later a panicked Nora blew into the building with all the force of a tsunami as she rushed over to his side.

“Danse, Jesus fuck, you’re awake.” She gasped, reaching toward him before hesitating and taking her hand back. At the quick motion, he found himself profoundly disappointed that she hadn’t actually touched him, yearning for the contact.

“So it would appear.” He scanned her face as he answered, noting the dark circles under her eyes indicating her own need of rest. “Have you been sleeping?”

Nora faltered, her happy smile only wavering briefly before she shrugged and pulled the chair over to the bed, flopping down with a pleasant huff. “I’m fine, I’ve been napping here and there.”

“So, if I were to verify that with Garvey, he’d maintain the same?” Danse pressed, recalling the man’s earlier statement.

“Glad to see the Deathclaw didn’t knock your sense of humor out in the scuffle.” She quipped, leaning forward to look at his face. “Didn’t mess with your rugged good looks either, I suppose.”

Danse froze at the statement as Nora leaned back, picking up Garvey’s previously discarded book with a relieved laugh and placing it on the side table.

“Sorry, I’ll try not to antagonize you too much.” She added, turning back to face him, her tone suddenly turning serious as she chewed her lip nervously. “I’m just-I’m really happy to see that you’re awake, Danse. You had us worried there for a while. I thought...”

He watched as she paled, her eyebrows drawn together in worry as she looked away from him. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand from where it laid on the armrest of the chair, letting out a quick breath as she interlocked their fingers together in what was becoming symbolic of their frequent dance with the lines of professionalism, like a secret handshake only they knew.

“I’m sorry to have worried you so significantly, Nora.” He stated, hoping his words came across as genuine, squeezing her hand softly to emphasize his point. “I’m not very good at these sort of things... But I wanted to express my gratitude for, um, for everything you’ve done... I suppose what I’m trying to say here is, thank you.”

She offered him a sad smile, tracing circles against the back of his hand with her thumb. “Of course, if we go down, we go down together, right?”

“Precisely so.” He thought of his own words to her just a week before, smiling as she parroted them back to him. Looking around the room briefly, he frowned. The last he remembered they had just exited the cave in the Glowing Sea, but they were clearly far enough from the irradiated region that the air didn’t have the distinctive tinge of green to it. “Where are we?”

“Somerville Place, courtesy of Justin Somerville and family.” She answered, looking back to the doorway only briefly. “ I guess this is a small farm town, for people who don’t have any where else to go in the area, ghouls and people alike... They’ve been really hospitable."

Danse watched the carefully controlled movement of her thumb, as if she were afraid that if she stopped tracing his hand, he would disappear. “I’ll be sure that the Brotherhood compensates them for their assistance.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Nora waved her free hand only briefly as she watched him with a look in her eyes that he could only define as fondness.

“How did we get here from the cave?” He blurted, thinking about how far away from civilization they had been, save for the lunatics calling themselves the ‘Church of Atom’. He took immediate not of her brief hesitation before she answered.

“It’s wasn’t too far, I just dragged you over here. The Power Armor did most of the work.” She stated, her words guarded in her answer.

Danse narrowed his eyes in thought. “Is that the truth?”

“It... Might have been a bit further.” Nora admitted, looking down at the stained blanket beneath him. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now and you’re awake, so that’s the important thing.”

He scanned her face, trying to think of where she could have possibly brought him that even resembled civilization. They had passed a collection of small farms earlier in the day, shortly before she had defected from their path and made her way to the church.

“You carried me here from the Glowing Sea?”

She tensed only slightly, the motion blatant from their interlocked fingers. “Like I said, the Power Armor did most of the work.”

“You could have left me there.” He offered, watching the angry expression break across her face as she glared at him, her hand going limp in his. _Shit that’s not what I meant, dammit_. “I just mean to say, given the circumstances of the environment we were in... I appreciate your help even more.”

Nora scanned his face quickly before squeezing his hand once and moving to stand. “Don’t mention it. I’d never leave you behind, Danse. “

He gawked at her words, wondering if she was being just being polite or was truly earnest, given that she _had_ ran off from him the previous week.

She shrugged, as if following his train of thought. “Are you hungry? Markus is making some stew, let me grab you a bowl.”

“Sure.” He answered, the absence of her hand in his eating at him in a sensation he only could define as longing, and he didn’t want to be away from her any longer than necessary. “Then, it would be wise for you to attempt some rest yourself.”

“I’ll sleep when you do.” She shrugged as she entered the doorway. “Five minutes, okay?”

Before he could answer, she disappeared around the door in a flash, her sudden lack of presence aching in a way he had no words to describe. It was something between need and desire, something that he wasn’t at all familiar with. All the books in the Brotherhood’s library couldn’t define the feeling he fell victim to when Nora was absent, even if her leave was only brief. Every part of him desperately wanted her to return, as if he was afraid she’s slip away from him for good.

_Get a grip, Paladin. You’re walking a dangerous line here._

*

It hadn’t been more than two days before Danse began prompting that they should continue on with their mission, insisting that it was prudent to find one of the infamous Coursers as soon as possible. Nora had been trying, and failing, to sway his decision on the matter.

The first day she had been able to convince Preston to insist they stay ‘for observation’ given the apparent severity of Danse’s head injury, and the Paladin has agreed without much issue, clearly still exhausted from his fight with the Deathclaw a few days prior. She had been damn-near sure that he was on Death’s short list only the previous day, falling into a spiral of guilt and self-hatred only mitigated by his sudden waking.

But by the second day, all of Nora’s objections were met with the man’s _damn_ proclivity for reason and logic. She would have cursed him and dug her heels in further, had he not mentioned Shaun. The second the name left his mouth, she knew he had the upper hand, and all of her objections about the deck she was building for the clinic disappeared, vaporized in an instant.

It was a low blow, in retrospect, to bring up her son, but Danse had been determined to get out of the settlement sooner rather than later, for whatever reason. The fact that Preston seemed to be in full support of the scheme only irritated her further, but she didn’t bother trying to figure out exactly what they had been plotting. It didn’t matter, ultimately, because Danse was right. Her son was missing. And with both of them in well enough shape to carry lumber back and forth to the settlers working on building the foundation for the common house Preston was overseeing, there was no use in fighting it.

At the very least, Danse had agreed to wear her Power Armor back to the Prydwen with minimal objections, clearly distressed at the lack of his own set. Though, not of course, until she had insisted she was far more comfortable with her regular leather armor and metal chest piece. When Nora had told him how irreparably damaged his own armor was the first night, recounting that even the frame had been warped in the attack, the sadness in his eyes made her heart ache and she had been planning on giving him her own set, regardless.

Thankfully, Danse had agreed that the risk of retrieving the damaged Power Armor, given it’s extensive damage, wasn’t worth braving the Glowing Sea once more, much to her relief. The thought of having to see the crumbled set of armor again made her feel distinctly sick, given that it had barely done enough to protect Danse as he was tossed around like a hackysack, courtesy of the Deathclaw. She knew all she’d be able to imagine was what would have happened had he not been wearing it.

Unfortunately, her own helmet was ruined as well. The crack from the incident in the church had only been exaggerated by her own scuffle with the monstrous reptile.

“Is there really nothing you can do to fix it?” She asked, frowning as Danse tossed the helmet into the pile of scrap next to the community workbench.

“It would be significantly more time consuming and costly to attempt such significant repairs, as opposed to salvaging one from practically anywhere else.” He replied, scowling at the offending piece of armor. At her quizzical look, he elaborated, excitedly explaining the mechanics. “The microprocessor inside that coordinates all the functions of the helmet was irreparably damaged. It would need to be fully replaced as well as the various structural defects. Regardless, there’s a fair chance that even with the repairs it would provide minimal protection at best...”

Nora watched as Danse trailed off, turning to face her like he had been caught in some scandalous act.

“My apologies... I realize the topic of the internal mechanics of T-60 helmets is likely not particularly interesting for others.” He defended, looking suddenly regretful at his eager demonstration of his knowledge regarding the armor. She offered him a wide smile, shaking her head.

“I might not have been able to follow most of that, but it’s nice to hear you talk about it.” The reassurance had a meaningful effect on Danse who returned her smile, even if it was profoundly more reserved than her own. “You can tell me more about how it all works, if you like.”

It was clear that he wanted to illuminate her further on how the Power Armor worked, but his apprehension was apparent. Nora wondered if he had been shut down when previously attempting to discuss the topic, given his clear passion for it. Beside, it was nice to hear him speak so freely about something that made him happy.

The image of Danse as a young child tearing apart various pieces of technology and junk crossed her mind, inspiring a fondness in her chest that she didn’t bother fighting anymore.

“Are you... quite sure?” He asked carefully, scanning her face in search of any evidence of her lack of earnest.

“Absolutely.” She reassured, nodding to the entrance of the settlement to indicate they should start head out. “Tell me everything you know about Power Armor.”

Danse face broke out into an expression of surprise, before quickly recomposing himself with a nod. Nora had noticed his tendency to do that, nodding after showing any inkling of genuine emotion or vulnerability, mirroring her own habit to a tee. She recognized the movement for what it was, carefully crafting a mask of invulnerability in order to fall in line with what was expected. It had been one of the hardest traits she’d had to learn after joining the academy. Emotion was a sign of weakness, and that was the exact opposite of what a soldier or officer needed to display.

As Danse lead the way out of the settlement with confidence, he allowed the regimented stoicism to drop just enough, watching her with a sort of entertained wonder before launching into an enthusiastic monologue that Nora, quite frankly, only understood about one percent of. But it didn’t matter, because seeing him joyously passionate was intoxicating, and she couldn’t bring herself to remember anything beyond the timber of his voice.

*

The journey was fairly uneventful, save for a particularly aggressive Stingwing that seemed hell-bent on going after Nora personally, apparently ignoring Danse all together. He had been focused on drawing any sort of hostility the encountered, painfully aware of Nora’s lack of adequate armor. As much as he was glad to be back in a set of Power Armor, her lack of such protection worried him to no end.

But when she had offered her own set to him, staring at the bulky metal figure as if it might strike her, he hadn’t been able to turn the chance down, recalling her significant aversion to being enclosed in tight metal spaces. He worried that had he refused, she’d feel pressured to wear the armor herself, and he certainly didn’t want to re-traumatize her. To be quite fair, claustrophobia was a large contributor to where many of the new Brother initiates would be placed, many of the recruits unable to weather the confined fit of the armor.

Fortunately, they had made relatively good time, despite Nora’s frequent stops at each abandoned building they’d stumble across, searching every inch of the ruins and stuffing far too many of the junk items into her bag with a mischievous smile. Even with his frequent interjections of the futility of such endeavors, she would just shrug and make some non-committal, smart-ass comment before starting off toward Diamond City once more.

For whatever reason, she had joyfully encouraged the discussion about Power Armor and weapon modifications, even if she seemed thoroughly disinterested by the topic in the past. He had to admit, it was nice to have someone listen to him talk about the variations of different armor and their unique benefits, even if much of what he was saying was undoubtedly foreign to her. As much as he expected her to discourage the discussion at some point, she only seemed to prod him further, asking surprisingly relevant questions as they walked.

It wasn’t until they were standing outside the large, metal doors of the city that Nora bothered to change the subject, complaining about the significant delay between speaking with one of the guards and actually making it inside the stadium.

“Oh don’t worry, take your time...” She muttered, glowing at the offending metal doors. “Not like there’s fucking mutants around the corner or anything.”

He felt a smile tearing at his expression that he was quick to conceal, not wanting to reveal his amusement at her derision. Despite the cordial manner in which she’d regarded Virgil, her own distaste for the mutated creatures was still fairly obvious, scowling at every disfigured carcass they’d encountered along the journey. Danse silently thanked his fellow brothers and sisters for handling the mutants at the abandoned scrap yard they’d passed earlier in the day, not wanting to agonize over Nora’s safety against such violent foes.

Once inside the gates, she damn-near power walked to the bright red door in the distance, offering only brief waves to the plethora of citizens who found it prudent to great her as she tore through the marketplace.

As soon as the door closed behind them with a resounding ‘click’ it was like a switch had been flipped, Nora relaxing completely as she grabbed a bottle from the pantry and moved to the couch. She flopped onto it instantly, uncorking the old, weathered bottle in her hand with her pocket knife before taking a hefty swig of the burgundy liquid.

After exiting the Power Armor, Danse followed suit, grabbing one of the bottles of amber liquid from the counter before settling next to her on the couch. Every part of his brain was screaming at him for choosing to be seated so close to her, the arm chair notably empty besides them. But if Nora had any qualms about his proximity, she hadn’t expressed them, leaning back onto the couch with a sigh.

Taking another hearty swig of the liquid, Danse pressed for an answer from the question that was burning a hole in his mind. “Are you actually planning on locating and delivering this alleged serum to _Virgi_ l?”

The name came out angrier than he’d anticipated, near spitting the word as he spoke. A part of him wanted to recoil, back pedaling from his clear disapproval, but the image of Cutler’s pained eyes prevent such acquisition.

Nora sighed, taking another liberal drink from the worn bottle. “Why does it bother you so much that I might?”

“Supermutants are a direct affront to-” He started, his anger rapidly building.

“ _No_.” The words were harsh, almost cold as she turned to look toward him. “Tell me the truth, not some company line the Brotherhood beat into you with a racism stick.”

The bite of her words almost made him flinch, watching her as she stared at him inquisitively. The thought that she must have been a phenomenal interrogator crossed his mind as he watched the composed gaze, not wanting to be on the receiving end like he was in that moment ever again.

Danse paused, his eyes darting between her composed expression and his hand clenched around his own bottle. “I will admit, the matter might be more personal than I original stated.”

“Clearly.” She answered quickly, relaxing as he turned his gaze onto her own. “Danse, you don’t have to tell me-”

“I want to.” He insisted, slamming his eyes closed at the statement. “It’s regarding my former friend... Cutler.” Nora let out a heavy sigh, the weight of her stare the only indication she had heard him. “Let me start at the beginning of this all. I grew up in the Capital Wasteland, alone for most of that time. I spent a majority of my youth rummaging through the ruins and selling scrap, but when I got a little bit older, I had a few caps to my name, and I moved into Rivet City to open a junk stand. While I was there, I met a guy named Cutler. We got along pretty well, watching each other's backs and kept each other out of trouble... So, it was no question that when the Brotherhood came through on a recruiting run, he felt like it was the best way out of our nowhere lives, so we joined up.”

The words spilled out of him before he could reign them in, hating himself for the sudden confession. Cutler had been his best friend, if such a thing existed, always ready to cover him in any way, should the need arise.

“You loved him.” Nora stated, her tone so soft it was almost a whisper, albeit still ever so empathetic.

“Yes, but not in the way you might be thinking.” He asserted, thinking of the familial comfort they had quickly adopted back in the Capitol. “It took almost a month after his disappearance, but I eventually found him, except it wasn’t him... Those mutant bastards used their FEV to change him into one of their own kind, watching the process like it was some old world cinema!”

The venom of his words lingered, impacting Nora as she watched him warily. “You did what you had to do.”

Danse almost flinched at the perceptive answer, instead turning to the brown bottle in his clenched fist. “I did what I was taught. I don't know if it was right.”

“You did the right thing.” She demanded, turning to her own bottle of booze. “If it were me, I’d want to know I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and I’m willing to bet he would feel the same.”

He dared a glance back toward her, believing her words in an instant, before continuing. “Ever since Cutler died, I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest... hell, some were even downright heroic... But I'd never consider any of them to be a good friend, a friend like Cutler was... until now. It's a good feeling, but it frightens me all the same. Having a bond with someone then losing them... it changes you...

“I know.” Nora whispered, taking a quick breath, undoubtedly thinking of her own loss.

“I don't want to go through that again” He elaborated, wincing at the statement. The confession was almost a choked sound, as Danse tried desperately to fight the outpouring of emotion he felt.

Almost instantly, he felt Nora’s hand slipping into his, entrancing his fingers once more. “You won’t.”

“You can’t make such an assertion with confidence...” He muttered, not wanting to consider the very real possibility of losing her as well.

“Sure I can” She insisted, the forced confidence obvious in her words. “It would never be that way with me...”

“No?” The words escaped before he could process them.

“I care about you too much to let that happen.” The voice was almost imperceptible as Nora turned away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

The words sent a sensation of absolute panic through him, thoroughly unprepared to process such an intimate statement. He could feel himself stuttering, not having enough self control to reclaim his words. “I... I didn't know you felt that strongly about our... well, about us.”

He immediately felt Nora tense, her hand instantly frozen against his own as soon as he uttered the statement.

“I’m sorry, I-” She blurted, yanking her hand away in a painfully instantaneous motion, taking another full swig from the bottle.

Before she could mount whatever defense she was constructing, Danse reached toward her face and cupped her cheek.

“Danse...” She whispered, leaning into the sudden contact. He was quick to ignore the warning bells going off in his head, completely taken by the affectionate look Nora was imparting on him.

_What’s happening? Surely this... development isn’t anything to bother Maxson with, right?_

The thoughts would have been reassuring, had the urge to press his lips against hers not been overtaking his every sensation.

_Where the hell did that come from?_

He focused on her wide eyes once more, noting the angle of her body and the hitch of her breath as she watched him.

_Nora doesn’t want you, she’s just compromised from her exhaustion and intoxication, what are you doing here, Paladin?_

Even before he could process the spiteful words, the door swung open slowly, revealing their illustrious visitor in a flourish of light. Danse tensed, only relaxing as their familiar intruder came into view.

“Jesus Christ, Nat.” Nora cursed, jumping back and moving to stand instantly. “Did Piper not teach you any manners?”

The young girl shrugged, looking around the area quickly. “She said I could come by anytime, and that you’d look out for me if I needed help.”

Nora frowned, watching the child with narrowed eyes. “I don’t suppose Piper articulated what sort of help?”

Nat hesitated, only long enough to expose her hesitation."I was bored..."

“So you thought you’d throw your weight around and see what happened?” Nora answered, obviously fighting a smirk as she watched the plucky young girl.

“I can handle myself.” Nat defended, squaring her shoulders as she glowered at Nora.

The woman just offered an amused smile, moving toward her pack next to the door, pulling various items from inside. “I don't doubt it, Nat. But hey, listen to me about this, never stop being stubborn, okay?”

With a proud smile, the girl nodded, her eyes going wide as Nora presented the items from her pack. “Is that... Is that a working camera?”

Nora offered a small laugh, dumping the device and handful of film canisters into the girl’s hand. “Yeah, I know you were wanting to get into photography, so I found this for you at an old radio station.”

The realization hit Danse like a vertibird to the chest. She had practically dragged him to every damn ruin they had the misfortune of spotting along the horizon, searching through rumble fervently. It hadn’t been until he’d seen the joy shoot across Nat’s face, that he understood. 

He understood exactly why Nora would pull apart the piles of rubble, desperate to help anyone and everyone she met. He knew that if she had known there would be a functioning camera beneath it all, she’d dig until her hands were raw and bleeding, so focused and determined to take care of literally everyone else before herself.

Most of all, Danse was struck by the sudden realization that he was enamored with every single aspect of the woman before him. He knew in an instant that he would do anything she asked, anything to help lessen the boulder of pain she carried everywhere she went. Part of him suspected it wasn’t right, to anchor himself so readily to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

She was compassionate, and righteous, and good, but most of all, he felt an unbreakable bond with her. The sensation would have rattled his senses, had it not been for the very memory of her hand in his.

No, he thought, failing to repress the sudden sea of emotion.

_She holds a part of you now... She has, ever since you lied to Maxson._

The voice warned, ripping through his mind.

_It doesn’t matter, Nora is here, and by some miracle she actually wants you here too._

The thought alone was enough to shake any of his previous concerns, watching the pair’s exchange with curiosity, barely hearing the conversation. There was something heartfelt and magical about watching Nora chat with the young girl, appearing to garner the child's trust instantly. A part of him wondered what sort of mother she had been before her world came crashing to a halt, but he quickly shutting the fanciful idea away from memory.

_God damn it, she’s your subordinate, what’s wrong with you?_

The angry voice inside his thoughts would have taken front stage, had it not been for the weak look Nora shot him as she turned toward him, Nat disappearing gleefully out the door, loading the film into the camera.

“Guess what? It’s Christmas Eve... Merry Christmas, Danse.” She choked, flopping back against the couch in an instant, taking a heavy swig from the bottle still clenched in her fist. “Merry-fucking-Christmas...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting there, promise...


	29. A Very Diamond City Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twas the night before Christmas,
> 
> And all through the city,
> 
> All the people were laughing,
> 
> All the women were pretty.
> 
> But the hero was weeping,
> 
> For she wasn't home,
> 
> But in small, tender moments,
> 
> She was far from alone.

As soon as she’d heard the words fall from Nat’s mouth, Nora felt her world turn sideways. The grief and guilt rendered her breathless, as the young girl rambled on about the Christmas Eve festivities Diamond City undertook every year. She had been moments away from making what might have been the best or worst impulse decision since waking, only to be thrown soberly back into reality.

She was ever-aware of Danse’s worried eyes burning a hole into the side of her face as she took a swig of the murky wine, even more rancid after two centuries of radiation, and kept her own gaze fixed on the dingy shack wall.

“Are you alright?” He asked finally, worrying at the cap of the whiskey bottle as he watched her carefully.

The shack suddenly felt too small, the sympathetic tone of the question tearing at her chest in a way she was eager to avoid at all costs. A large part of her instinct was screaming at her to run, as fast and as far away as possible, but the thought of watching the residents putting up the twinkling lights and decorations around the city was slightly more unbearable than bearing her soul to the man across from her.

Nora slammed her eyes closed, wondering what she would be doing on Christmas Eve two centuries before, had things not gone so terribly wrong. She thought of the last morning she had shared with her family, allowing herself a moment to indulge the painful memory.

*

For an early October day, the weather had been favorable, just chilled enough to be mitigated by a good coat or warm cup of cider. Nora had anxiously checked the spring onions she had been trying to regrow, not without a fair amount of help from Codsworth, and was more than happy to see the green stalks shooting up from the bulbs buried in the ground below. There was something comforting about working the small patch of dirt behind their house, herbs and tomatoes growing in abundance.

She and Nate had been arguing the night before, fighting over the spiritual merits of christening Shaun, if not only for her mother’s benefit, given their own indifference toward religion, and she didn’t particularly want to continue that discussion in the wee hours of the morning.

_A former cop spending her days now as a bored housewife, gardening, of all things._

Her father would had a fit, going off about her perceived duty to serve, and alleged responsibility to a citizenship that never appreciated his sacrifice. But his judgmental condemnation had been vacant from her life for years, and part of her enjoyed the idea.

It was well past dawn by the time she snuck back inside the house, Codsworth whirring happily in the corner as he prepared their typical morning coffee orders. Nora took the bitter beverage without sugar or cream, having grown accustomed to the harsh taste during her time working midnights with her fellow officers. There was no time to run to a Slocum Joes at two in the morning, standing ‘guard’ over a particularly heinous crime scene.

Nate, however, insisted that brown sugar, _added into the cup before the coffee,_ was the best possible addition to the warm brew. He had always credited his mother’s special recipe, collected from her years of living in New York, claiming it was the only acceptable thing to add to a fresh cup of Cafe Bustelo.

That day had been no different, her waking up several hours before their alarm only to waste her time day dreaming and pulling weeds from the small plot of onions in their back yard. The pleasant sounds of whatever popular music group taking the US by storm filled the air, the words easily drowned out by the upbeat tempo.

She could feel herself relax, releasing the mounting tension in her shoulders as Nate emerged from the hallway with a sleepy smile. Shaun had blessedly begun sleeping through the nights, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to get a full night of rest, no longer interrupted by his frequent cries. But Nora wasn’t content with such ease, waking numerous times throughout the night to check on her son’s peaceful, sleeping figure. She was terrified to leave him alone for longer than a few hours, given their previous loss.

The thought of anything happening to Shaun sent a lightning rod of panic down her spine, making her shiver in response, and she found herself hovering never more than a few feet from him at all times.

They had already lost one child, too young and too vulnerable to the world to survive on her own after being thrown into the world far too soon. The doctor had explained it clearly, justified her death as an expected trauma, given the shock of Kevins’ sudden suicide, but Nora had only felt empty at the clarification. There was nothing a thousand medical professionals could offer her, no justification that it wasn’t her fault, that would numb the ache in her heart at the death of her would-be daughter.

When it had happened, nothing mattered beyond her, ripped from her womb by the unforgiving claws of Death himself without so much as an apology. She had been aware of Nate’s steady voice speaking with the doctor, the only indication of his own distress marked in his tense shoulders as she watched silently from the cot. The words had faded to nothingness as she closed her eyes, hoping for the shameful tears to pour down her face, as if they were her punishment for not being a good enough mother to keep their baby safe.

That morning Nate was bustling around their kitchen, undoubtedly preparing to make a horrible joke to Codsworth, who’s settings had been ‘updated’ the night before. General Atomics had mastered the art of artificial intelligence, but they seemed absolutely hopeless at putting out any updates that collated the sentient Mr. Handy’s repertoire of painfully classless joke.

“Ah, good morning, sir! Your coffee. 173.5 degree Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection!” Codworth bellowed, as he presented the steaming mug to him.

“Hey, thanks... Codsworth?” She heard Nate ask, a subtle excitement marking his exhaustion. “What does a nose-y pepper do?”

If Nora had the faculties to throw something at her husband, she would have. It was the same goddamn joke he always introduced to Codsworth after an update, and hearing it once more made her damn-near lose her mind. Nate’s awkward laugh, in anticipation of the punchline, was the only thing that prevent her from snapping on the unusually chipper pair.

“They get hall-up in-yo-business.” He blurted, butchering the word jalapeños in a way that only he could make endearing.

Shaun’s anxious cry broke her focus, turning her attention to him with immediate vigor. She recognized the cry as that in need of attention, and moved to the small bedroom without so much as acknowledging Codsworth.

She had just lifted Shaun as Nate entered into the room behind her, a cup of coffee still in hand. “What time do you want to go to the park? Codsworth has already packed us a nice lunch.”

Nora raised her eyebrow at the question, wondering what exactly constituted a ‘nice’ lunch in her husband’s eyes, given his criticism of the robot’s previous cooking attempts. He had politely suggested that Codsworth stick to making coffee, much to the robot’s relief.

“Sir? Mum? You should come and see this!” Codsworth called, whirring significantly more loudly than usual. The panicked tone in his voice drowned out the sarcastic comment she had been moments away from making. “It appears... Oh no... There has been a devastating attack on New York!”

*

The gentle rap against her door drew her attention back to the shack, blinking her eyes open as she looked at Danse who was still watching her as if he expected her to snap and lose her shit at any moment.

_Not that it’s outside the realm of possibilities..._

“Hey doll, you in there? Ellie thought she saw you across the way.” Her eyes went wide at the familiar voice and she jumped up instantaneously.

_Oh Christ on a cracker, Nick you have the worst timing._

“Coming!” Nora called out, her tone rushed as she turned toward Danse, making sure to stand in between him and the door, just in case. “I need you not to freak out-”

“Come in? Well, if you insist...” Nick answered, opening the door behind her slowly.

Danse’s eyes went wide, before a furious expression broke across his face as the synth detective entering the living room. Before he could jump up, Nora pushed her hands on his shoulders, shoving him firmly against the back of the couch, applying all the pressure she could muster to keep him in place. Not that there would have been any competition, should he actually try to stand.

“What the hell is that _thing_ doing here?” He demanded, glaring around her shoulder, refusing to take his eyes off of Nick, who stood frozen in the entryway, yellow eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

“Hate to break up the party here and all... Catch you at a bad time, Nora?” Nick drawled, his words clear and calculated as he spoke, obviously measuring the situation for possible risks. There was no doubt in her mind that the bright Brotherhood uniform Danse was wearing gave away his allegiance in an instant. Nick would surely recognize it, if not from previous experience with the soldiers, by deduction, given it’s advanced design.

“Nick is my friend.” She urged, trying to force Danse to meet her eyes as he glowered at the detective with a look that she could only describe as pure hatred.

“That synth is a machine, it’s not your friend.” He bit, his furious tone so starkly different from the tender one he’d regarded her with previously.

“Well hello to you too, bucko...” Nick muttered behind her as she grunted out an irritated sigh.

“Danse.” Nora gritted, trying to temper her own anger as not to escalate the situation further. “I’ve known Detective Valentine for years. He’s my friend, and he’s on our side.” She could feel the rapid rise and fall of Danse’s chest against her hands as he silently fumed, hardening his jaw defiantly as he stared at their new arrival. “Nick... Maybe give us a couple minutes?”

“Sure thing, kid. You know where to find me.” The detective reassured, slipping back out the door silently, the only indication of his absence was the quiet click of the door as the latch reengaged.

“What the hell are you thinking Nora?” Danse growled, suddenly turning his seething eyes on her. The sudden display of hostility was like a shock to her system and she reeled, yanking her hands back as if she had been struck.

“Nick’s a good guy-” She defended, her patience quickly dwindling at the choleric display.

“ _It_ is not a man at all.” He spat, moving to stand as she pursed her lips, weighing her options and trying to determine exactly how much she should divulge of Nick’s origin.

“He was... back before the war.” Nora moved to reclaim the bottle of wine from the coffee table, putting the make-shift cork in the neck and placing it back on the counter behind her. At the very least, it gave her something to do, though she didn’t imagine it would stay corked for long. “Nick underwent this brain experiment back in the day. I guess the Institute found it all those years later and had some way to transfer his mind into the body of a synth... But he’s still the man I knew back then, his mannerisms and memories are all Nick’s.”

“That’s disgusting.” Danse asserted, his eyes dark and angry as they scanned her face. “The Institute exploits technology for their own nefarious purposes, if you believe that synth outside is any different, you're deluded.”

“Nick isn’t working with the fucking Institute!” She yelled suddenly, her anger only further fueled by the implication that she was being played for a fool. Every ounce of her was begging to break something, to watch the shatter of glass or ceramic across her floor, just to feel a release from the storm of rage collecting in her mind. “They threw him in a trash heap, he hates them just as much as I do, if not more!”

“That’s what it _wants_ you to think!” He exploded, her anger apparently igniting his own. His face was bright red at his outburst and he quickly tried to recompose himself, shaking his head with a huff.

“I swear to God, Danse, if you call Nick ‘it’ one more time, I’m going to lose my shit.” She warned, her voice a harsh hiss and her throat tight with anger. She could feel her chest heave in frustration, accompanied by the deafening echo of her pulse in her ears.

“I can’t fathom why you have such faith in the motives of a machine.” He pressed, his narrowed eyes boring into her own with a pleading that she wasn’t sure how to interpret. The look gave her pause enough to hesitate, which Danse quickly noticed and continued, still firm but notably softer. “I don’t want to see something happen to you, should your trust be misplaced, don’t you see that? How do you know this isn’t some elaborate rouse?”

Nora ran her hand over her face with a sigh. Hearing his concern for her was enough to mute her anger significantly, and if she was thinking objectively, she had to admit that his skepticism was understandable. It wasn’t something she’d put past the Institute, given what she knew about them.

“I just know he’s not working with them... He helped me find and take down Kellogg. If he was working for the Institute and wanted to take me out, he had plenty of opportunity to do so.” She paused, checking to see if her words were making any sort of difference. Much to her relief, Danse had his eyebrows drawn together in thought, indicating he was at least considering what she said. “Nick has spent all his time since waking up doing anything and everything he can to help people, never so much as asking for anything in return. People who would be all too happy to shoot him dead, if he wasn’t of use to them.”

Danse let out a heavy breath, his eyes introspective as he seemed to process what she had said. “I want to make it clear, I absolutely do not share your sentiment, nor will I place a modicum of trust in that synth outside, regardless of your personal connection to... him.” He winced at the word as if it was physically painful to address Nick as a person, frowning as he continued. “If I should hear that your association so much as jeopardizes your safety or our mission, I won’t hesitate to put _him_ down.”

_And I don’t fucking doubt it._

“Understood.” She muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It wasn’t ideal, but considering that she had anticipated Danse shoving his rifle in Nick’s face only minutes before, it was the best case scenario for the time being. Not that she was willing to let the matter go entirely. “Well, I need to talk to Nick. Are you good to stay here for a bit?”

“I’d be happy to accompany you-” He offered, frowning once more at the mention of the other man.

“I’ll be fine, Danse. Just... trust me on this.” Nora quickly turned back to her pack, retrieving the leather-bound satchel of bottle caps inside.

“It’s not you who I don’t trust.” Danse insisted, moving to pick up his rifle from the corner, and she quickly put her hand up, stopping him.

“No offense, but I don’t think Nick would be particularly thrilled to have you glaring at him for the better part of the next hour, given your earlier display... If I’m not back by then, feel free to tear the city apart.” She made a mental note to be back well before a full hour, half afraid Danse actually would actually scour the old stadium hunting for Nick if she was so much as a minute later than promised

“One hour.” He agreed, a pinched tone marking his curt answer as he checked the clock on the wall.

“I promise I won’t miss curfew, _mom_.” She mocked, moving to the door with a quick wave before rushing outside.

As soon as she heard the door close behind her, Nora let out a tense breath, both relieved and bothered by Danse’s absence. While she knew it would be easier for everyone to keep the two men separated as much as possible, not having Danse at her back inspired an anxious gnawing in her stomach.

The marketplace was abuzz with activity, citizens of all regions of Diamond City working together to hang lights and place decorations. Even the pretentious Upper Stands residents were intermingling with the crowd, offering cups of what smelled suspiciously like spiced apple cider, if just a bit sweeter. It was a sight to see, to say the least. The camaraderie of the citizens inspired an aching sensation of nostalgia and regret to bloom in her chest, missing her family and friends that had long since perished, no longer able to partake in such tender holiday traditions.

_Well, not all of them have perished. There’s still Nick and Cosdworth, and Shaun is out there somewhere..._

She turned the corner to the alleyway, a pained smile gracing her lips at the neon pink glow of the sign, buzzing with electricity. Nick would undoubtedly have something less than favorable about Danse and Nora was absolutely dreading having to defend her friend to the detective. Ironically, the two men were more alike than they’d ever admit. Both stubborn, honorable, and clinging to their ideology about morality like their lives depended on it. At least for Nick, it sort of did.

She pushed the door open slowly, half afraid of the impending discussion. As she entered, Nick looked up with an amused smile, closing the file he was pouring over in an instant.

“Wondered when you would be dragging yourself back in here.” He started, eyes scanning her face and the area behind her, as if expecting Danse to have followed her through the doorway. “Don’t tell me I scared your friend off back there? He wouldn’t be the first person to take offense to this ole mug.”

“I’m so sorry about that, Nick.” She rushed, moving to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “I should’ve told him about your... situation.”

“Eh, don’t sweat it. I never would have made it this far without thick skin.” He offered a quick shrug, moving to snag the pack of cigarettes off the desk. “Besides, I can’t imagine it’s too easy slipping in the ‘my friend is a rusty old synth’ with that lot. Though I gotta say, I’m not particularly please about the company you’re keeping.”

“Danse is a good guy, he’s just a bit... er,” She paused, trying to think of a nice way to explain herself.

“Of a bigot?” Nick offered, raising a would-be eyebrow in question as he lit the cigarette.

Nora closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. There wasn’t really a good or justifiable defense to how Danse behaved in their earlier exchange, and she really didn’t want to be put in the position of defending the men to each other, but it felt like she’d be doing Danse a disservice not to try.

“It’s complicated... I think there’s a lot of misinformation about synths and he’s been spoon fed it on a daily basis by the Brotherhood.” She explained, thinking of her own reaction toward synths after her initial encounter back at ArcJet. “But, I promise you, he’s a good man, underneath all the Power Armor and rhetoric.”

“I suppose I can’t fault him for being terrified, him and half the Commonwealth. Well, at least the half that’s paying attention, that is.” The detective watched her, yellow eyes scanning her face as he flicked the cigarette ash into the faded ashtray on the desk. “Don’t expect me to invite him to the family picnic anytime soon, though.”

She teased a small, wry smile at the comment, trying to picture such a scene. “Ah, he’ll be gutted. I’ll make sure to let him down easy when I break the news.”

Nick bit out a brief chuckle, shaking his head at her retort. “At the very least, Danse seems to be awfully protective of you, which I can appreciate.”

Nora could feel herself blush at the implication in her friends tone as he watched her from across the desk. “Yeah, he’s a good friend.”

Nick smirked slightly at the rush of her words, tapping out the end of his cigarette. “I’ve heard about what a good friend he is.”

“What?” She blurted, trying and failing to ignore the burning sensation overtaking her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I see. Must’ve been a different Brotherhood Paladin everyone’s seen you running around Boston with then.” The dry sarcasm she had come to recognize from her friend grated against her worn nerves, even more so at the realization that _people had been talking about them._

“Glad to see my dear friends have taken to gossiping about me when I’m gone.” Nora bit, suddenly feeling very exposed at her friend’s apparent notions about her friendship with Danse.

“What can I say? You’ve garnered a fair bit of attention, and you have a lot of people who are just tryin’ to look out for you, doll.” Nick reassured, his even tone at least not contributing any more to her anxiety.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that, I do...” She groaned, leaning back into the chair as she looked at the filing cabinet behind him. “But, it’s not like that.”

“Yeah ‘cause friendship is nothing if not two people sitting in dark living room, sharing a bottle of wine while seated just a couple inches away from each other, on a single couch in a living room full of other furniture.” He teased, smiling more to himself than anything at her immediate change of expression. “I’m just saying, I’m you’re friend and I’ve never chosen that particularly seating arrangement... I’m pretty damn sure that Nate would’ve decked me if he saw me sitting next to you like that.”

The detective realized his mistake far too late, Nora’s face crumbling in an instant at the mention of her late husband. The guilt she had been trying hopelessly to repressed reared it’s ugly head once more, only further emphasized by the city’s holiday festivities. Slamming her eyes closed, she took a shaky breath, trying to control her breathing and fend off the mounting panic growing in her chest before it could get too out of control.

“Ah shit, kid.” Nick rushed, pulling out another cigarette that he promptly lit. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just trying to be funny.”

“No, you’re right, Nick... It’s Christmas Eve and instead of preparing for our first Christmas with Shaun, I’m curled up on a couch with another man, in a rusty old shack in Fenway Park, of all places.” She let out a bitter laugh, her voice hitching as she continued. “The very place I had my first date with my dead husband. You’re right, Nate wouldn’t be too happy to see it.”

“Now hold on there, Nora. That’s not what I was saying at all.” He defended, frowning as he watched her from across the desk, shaking his head. “I was just trying to say that it seems like there might be something more between you two.”

“I don’t know... But it doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters.” She muttered, resting her head against her hands, trying to get the image of Nate’s crumbled figure out of her mind. “My priority is finding Shaun, that’s it.”

Nick paused, as if considering if what he was going to say would be worth the risk of irritating her further. “You’re allowed to be happy you know... You’re allowed to move on.”

Nora bit out a bitter laugh, near seething at the statement. She wasn’t sure who her anger was directed at. Herself, more than likely. But it hurt all the same, the idea of leaving Nate behind, afraid of forgetting his goofy laugh or kind eyes. It was hard enough not to picture his cold, lifeless body when she thought of him as it was, and she was terrified that one day it would be the only sight she could remember, her old life seemingly so far removed from her new world.

“Maybe... but it’s been what? Two months?” She closed her eyes quickly, willing herself not to allow the tears, not on Christmas Eve.

“About two and a half, if memory serves.” He corrected, examining the screws on his exposed metal hand briefly before looking back toward her. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, especially coming from me, but Nate wouldn’t want you to agonize over his death. I know grief isn’t something we can control. Hell I know that more than anyone, but he would want you to be happy. That man would’ve captured the moon for you, and you would’ve done the same for him. Would you want him to be alone out here?”

As true as the words were, she couldn’t stave off the sense of compunction as she tried to think about truly moving on. “Of course not... But he would at least take the time to mourn, I know he would.”

“You’ve been mourning since you crawled out of the vault. Hell, part of me wonders if you were somehow mourning before that as well. You were put back on ice for a decade, it’s possible your mind has had time to come to terms with it during that time, even if your heart is still trying to catch up.” Nick reassured, his tone soft and sympathetic.

The words made sense, she admitted, even if the were hard to hear. At the very least they gave her something to consider, another perspective of what had been nagging at her subconscious mind. Because Nick had known them both, he’d seen and recognized how much she and Nate had loved each other, knew her husband well enough to be able to reason what his take on the situation. In a way, it was almost like talking to Nate, through the benefit of their shared memories.

“Maybe... Thanks Nick.” She answered, relieved for her friend’s support and understanding on the matter.

“Any time, doll. So tell me, did you find who you were looking for down in the Glowing Sea?”

*

Danse always hated waiting around idly. At least when he was stuck on the Prydwen or back in the Citadel the Brotherhood had an expansive library he would peruse. But pacing around Nora’s home was maddening. He had already repaired her Power Armor back in Somerville Place and it hadn’t sustained any damage since then.

The miscellaneous junk crate she had stored hadn’t proved a thorough distraction either, and he was unable to keep his mind off the potential trouble she could be getting into, running around with that synth. The situation was infuriating, that she would stand there and defend that machine, claiming it was her long lost friend from before the war. Even worse, she had insisted she trusted this ‘Nick Valentine’ with her safety, having traveled to confront Kellogg with the alleged detective.

The thought of Nora undertaking such serious missions, putting herself directly into the line of fire with a synth claiming to be her former friend as her only means of backup horrified him. He could only imagine the creature turning on her, hurting her or worse, killing her and replacing her with a copy of herself.

Danse looked down at the pile of gears on the work bench that he had been trying to sort. He wasn’t sure why she insisted on collecting the parts, given her residence in a well protected city, but figured it might have something to do with the work the Minutemen Garvey was doing with the farm towns. There had been rumors going around, making their ranks through the Brotherhood, that the group was experiencing some sort of resurgence. It seemed innocent enough, and freed up the Brotherhood’s resources to focus on addressing the Institute instead of dispensing charity to a populace who seemed more than happy not to help themselves.

‘Charity is the only reason I stopped to help you and your team back in Cambridge in the first place. It's the only reason I have half the people in my corner that I do.’

He thought of her words back on the Prydwen and felt a stab of regret at having judged the settlers so harshly. Especially considering they had taken them in without question when he’d been injured the previous week. She was right, after all. Charity and selflessness was the only thing holding the Commonwealth together it seemed.

_The Minutemen being back to help the citizens is rather outstanding. They are better equipped to coordinate dispensing resources, given their knowledge of the area._

If Nora was involved with the Minutemen, he had no doubt in his mind that it was precisely why she insisted on collected the defunct technology. With a frustrated sigh, Danse turned back to dissembling the telephone sitting on the workbench.

_Might as well make myself useful._

He watched the clock anxiously as he worked, growing more and more worried as the hands inched by painfully slow.

A gentle knock from the door drew his attention and he immediately reached for his rifle, the memory of the last impromptu visitor all too familiar in his mind as he approached the primary entrance.

“Blue, you in there?” The woman called, knocking impatiently against the metal. He swung the door open, relieved at least that the unexpected guest at least appeared to be human. “Oh, it’s you.”

“It is.” He confirmed, watching as the woman, Piper, he recalled, looked behind him. Undoubtedly searching for Nora. “Is there something I can assist you with, civilian?”

“I was just looking for Blue, is she in?” Piper asked, still looking around the living area through the open door. Danse frowned, wondering if he was supposed to invite the woman inside. It wasn’t his house to offer, but at the same time, Nora had said she had a copy of the key.

“Negative. She went to meet with that synth, Valentine.” He forced the claimed name out of his mouth, hoping his derision toward the synth detective wasn’t too apparent. The woman looked up at him, squinting her eyes quickly at the comment.

“Oh boy...” She muttered, not quietly enough to escape his notice, before she cleared her throat and added, louder, “Nicky’s good people, you don’t gotta worry about her if he’s with her.”

“We have very different definitions of the word ‘people’.” Danse blurted, kicking himself for his lack or restraint as Piper shot him an irate look.

“Nick has put his ass on the line more times than I can count, for synths and humans alike. He thinks, he feels, I’ve even seen him drink. By every meaningful definition, he’s a person. He’s been around for decades, so don’t go getting any ideas now, soldier boy.” Piper warned, crossing her arms as she stared at him.

Unwilling to engage in another discussion about the merits, or lack thereof, regarding the reliability of Institute technology, he changed the topic. “Nora should be back soon, if you’d like-”

Before he could finish his statement, Piper slipped passed him and moved to the couch and pulled a small book out of her coat. After retrieving a pencil, she opened the book and began scribbling something on the pages inside. “I’m happy to wait then.”

“Sure.” Danse answered tersely, trying to hide his annoyance at the pluck of the reporter to waltz in so confidently. But, he reasoned, if the woman had her own key and Nora had allowed her unlimited entrance and egress, it seemed fairly harmless that she wait inside.

_Except now you have to make small talk. Delightful..._

“Paladin, feel free to offer any official comment on life with the Brotherhood of Steel?” Piper asked suddenly as he closed the door with a sigh.

_I would rather go for a second round with the Deathclaw._

“No, thank you.” He answered stoically, moving back to the workbench, hoping his obvious lack of interest in the conversation would stymie any further attempts.

“Not a fan of the First Amendment, huh? Now _that’s_ interesting...” She mumbled, tapping the pencil against her chin dramatically.

“I find that the press often manipulates the truth in order to deliver their agenda.” The words came out before he could temper them, and he regretted them instantly. Maxson would have a conniption if he saw that printing on the front page of whatever rudimentary publication the reporter managed.

“Is that an official statement, _Paladin?_ ” Piper pressed, staring at him as he continued to pull apart copper wiring.

“No.”

Danse nearly smiled with relief when he heard the door open a few minutes later, followed by Nora’s cheerful voice as she caught sight of the other woman.

“Piper!”

“Blue!” Piper gushed, rushing to bring her friend into a firm hug before releasing her. “When did you sneak back in?”

“It was just a bit ago.” Nora answered, waving her hand as she met Danse’s eyes across the living room. “You two making nice?”

He paused, looking toward the reporter briefly, before nodding. “Affirmative. Piper was just waiting for you to return.”

“Aw come on Nora. When have you ever known me to make trouble?” Piper joked, chuckling at her friend’s indignant expression.

“Pretty much constantly, Pipes.” Her tone was polite but controlled, a fact that Danse noticed immediately with a frown. The cheer was forced, but not so blatant that the other woman seemed to take notice.

Piper feigned a shocked gasp, shaking her head in response. “I am a _delight_.”

“I never said otherwise.” Nora answered, smiling just a little too wide. “So, what’s up?”

“Oh! I wanted to see if you could help with some decorations. We might be a bit behind schedule.” The reporter admitted, and Danse near rolled his eyes at the statement, had decorum and decency not prevented such a sign of disrespect.

“Of course you’re in charge of managing that...” Nora muttered, looking back to Danse quickly. He caught her eyes and before she even spoke, he knew what her answer would be. “We would be happy to help.”

“Thank you so much!” Piper gushed, pulling her into a quick hug once more. “Oh, and that was so nice of you to get that camera for Nat. You’re good people, Nora.”

Nora just waved her hand to dismiss the gratitude, before raising her eyebrow at him as the Piper ran back out the door, hollering something at some poor bastard named ‘Thomas’ who was apparently hanging the mistletoe incorrectly. “Come on Danse, let go show Diamond City that the Brotherhood is here to help.”

“I’m sure this is precisely what Maxson had in mind when he arrived.” Danse quipped dryly, watching her tense expression.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Her words were firm as she narrowed her eyes at him, as if daring any further objections.

_Of course... This holiday held significantly more importance back in her time. She was probably thinking of all the holidays she missed since then, of her family and her son, still hopelessly trapped inside the Institute._

“Certainly. I’d be happy to be of assistance in whatever way possible.” He answered, following her out the door and into the busy market place.

*

Nora didn’t particularly want to spend the first Christmas Eve in the wasteland trying to hang fairy lights, but the thought of being alone with Danse in Home Plate given her earlier discussion with Nick was inspiring a whole different sense of anxiety. It wasn’t that she thought anything was going to happen, Danse was far too regimented to allow such a breach of protocol. But at the very least, she needed time to sort out her thoughts about the whole situation.

Mindlessly untangling electrical cords provided the perfect time to do so, apparently. They had been dancing carefully on the lines of professional conduct, crossing it just enough to warrant a warning or concern, but not full crossing into forbidden territory. She could explain away every single touch as a simple misunderstanding, given the drastically different cultural expectations and nuances between two hundred year ago compared to present day.

Surely Danse hadn’t intended to be so blatantly intimate, he was just mirroring her own actions. It had been her who first grabbed his hand, and he had mentioned he thought it merely an indication of companionship. It wasn’t exactly as if he was particularly hip to the existing social cues in the wasteland, much less those existing in her time.

A part of her thought to thank Piper for not so much as hesitating at the chance to boss Danse around, immediately directing him to the opposite side of the city to help set up the table for the dinner later. She wasn’t sure how to act around him given the events of the last couple weeks.

By the time she had managed to untangle the cord, it had grown quite dark out, the sun merely a glimmer on the horizon as Piper ran around fixing the final touches on the decorations.

“Oh, you got that untangled!” The reporter asked, her tone surprised. “I thought that one was done for.”

Nora narrowed her eyes as she stood, extending the string of lights to the other woman. “Then why did you have me untangling it for the last hour.”

“You seemed distracted.” Piper answered with a shrug, taking the lights with a smile. “Thought you might want some time alone.”

“So you gave me a tangled electrical cord and set of Christmas lights...” The thought that she had wasted a hefty chunk of the evening on busywork inspired a sudden indignation, that was only partially mitigated by her friend’s apparent concern

“Did it help?”

“I... I guess it did.” She admitted with a sigh. “That string of lights better not be dead or some shit.”

“Who’s to say.” Piper replied, clearly evading the question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know... I do, but I also really don’t.” Nora looked over to meet her friend’s perceptive gaze, worrying at the inside of her cheek, already raw from the fretful movement.

“Or is it that you want to talk about it with someone else... _someone_ in particular?” The reporter offered, turning to look at where the tables were being rearranged for yet the third time, Cait arguing with a blonde woman in the distance.

“I _really_ don’t want to talk about that, in particular.” Nora mirrored Piper’s own words, hoping the irritation she was feeling was clear in her voice, beyond unwilling to entertain any further opinions about Danse for the day. Nick’s words were occupying a decent portion of her mind as it were. “Just point me where you need me.”

“Okay, you got it.” Piper agreed, crossing something off her notebook and scanning the crowd in thought. “Maybe see if Vadim needs any help with drinks?”

“Go drink with Vadim, got it.” Nora stated, ignoring the reporter’s look of distress as she headed toward the Dugout Inn.

At the very least, Vadim was pleasant enough company, always happy to regale her with tales of dubious accuracy about ‘The Homeland’. She was more than certain that neither of the Brobov Brother’s had been to ‘The Homeland’, but was polite enough not to challenge the validity of the stories.

As soon as she pushed the door open, Vadim caught sight of her and offered a hearty laugh, waving her over. “Ah, is my friend, you come back to claim your free drink, yes? As promise, Vadim is good of his word!”

“Thanks, but Piper actually told me to see if you needed any help.” She answered, accepting the free beer nonetheless, only grimacing slightly at the strong hoppy flavor. It was certainly better than the moonshine they brewed, which she was pretty sure could peel paint off a Corvega.

“For you? Nonsense! Tonight we drink. Travis and Scarlet can handle.” He urged, quickly nodding toward Scarlet who just waved in response.

“You drive a hard bargain... alright.” Nora agreed, sliding onto the barstool with ease. “You staying out of trouble, or am I going to have to drag you back here by the scruff of your neck again?”

“Eh, was bad business. We live and we learn from, yes?” Vadim poured a shot of the offending home brew, tipping it back quickly. “To my good friend, the heroine of light!”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes at him, scanning the bar that was surprisingly empty, save for a few drifters sitting at the end of the bar. Yefim offered her a polite nod as she noticed him, harboring a stoicism that made Danse look like a damn comedian in comparison.

Vadim bustled behind the bar, only stopping to slid a bottle of Brobov’s across the counter toward her, with a small smile. “Last one on house, okay? For my daring rescue. But careful, remember Brobov’s brews our moonshine strong.”

“I remember, thanks Vadim... If you don’t need any help, do you mind if I take this to go?” Nora asked, pointing to the bottle with a small smile, having no intention of drinking the swill. The man just waved her away with a laugh as she grabbed the bottle and exited the bar. The crowd was just beginning to form in the marketplace, offering her the perfect cover to slip inside Home Plate unnoticed, not particularly interested in partaking in the festivities.

*

Danse had been rearranging the large collection of tables for the better part of two hours, the young redhead woman taking all too much pleasure in bossing him around as she seemingly changed her mind about the arrangement once more. As if my some miracle, the other woman in charge of managing the festivities, Piper, had just returned after Cait had insisted that something still wasn’t ‘quite right’.

“Looks great, babe!” The reporter complimented, quickly pecking the other woman on the cheek, causing a faint blush to creep across her freckled cheeks.

“Aye, thanks Ree. Yer new friend ‘ere was a big help.” Cait answered, an amused smile coming to her lips that indicated she really had been changing her mind about the organization of the tables for no other reason that to see if he’d listen.

Piper turned toward him with an apologetic look that, quite frankly, didn’t look thoroughly innocent in itself. “Thanks, Paladin. Who knew the Brotherhood had a hospitable streak?”

“My pleasure.” He mumbled, only half sincerely, given the women’s apparent scheme. Why they would want to keep him busy with nonsensical work for the better part of two hours, he didn’t know, but the separation from Nora was less than ideal. “Is there anything else which requires my assistance?”

Piper hesitated only briefly, shooting the other woman a weighted look before answering. “Nope! Thanks again.”

“Affirmative... Have you an idea where Nora might be?” Scanning the now busy market place proved futile, given the sudden addition of more citizens than Danse would have thought possible to reside in the former stadium.

“Hmm..” The reporter sucked in a breath of air, tapping her chin in an expressive gesture. “Last I saw her, I sent her overto Vadim.”

“That would be the barkeep, correct?” He asked, frowning trying to remember which of the brothers was which.

“Yeah, he should be at the Dugout.” Piper answered quickly, speaking over something imperceptible Cait had muttered behind her, crossing her arms as she stared at him.

“I appreciate your assistance, Piper.” Danse answered, forcing all the civility he could muster as he looked toward the other woman. “Cait.”

The redhead just rolled her eyes, moving to stomp off toward another group of citizen without dignifying him with a response.

“Sorry about her, she’s just...” Piper frowned, looking down at the old clipboard in her hands.

“She doesn’t seem to like me very much.” He offered, noticing her struggle for words.

The reporter sighed, shooting Cait a quick glance before replying. “It’s not that, I mean it’s _also_ that, but... She just doesn’t understand why Nora is traveling with you, and she doesn’t trust why you’re traveling with her.”

“I see... Have I done something to warrant such distrust?” Danse asked frowning at the revelation of his alleged reputation with the woman.

“No, it’s not that. It’s mainly to do with her own stuff, and a little bit to do with Blue... Nora’s just, she’s done a lot of good for people, and there’s a lot of people that care about her out here. We don’t want to see anything happen to her, and given the Brotherhood’s less than _stellar_ reputation...” Piper trailed off, narrowing her eyes as she looked back to him, as if anticipating an objection.

“I can assure you, I have nothing but Nora’s best interests in mind.” He stated firmly, not wanting to entertain the idea of the Brotherhood harboring any malicious intentions toward her.

“Oh, trust me Danse, I know...” The answer held a tone of implication that seemed out of place, but the woman didn’t ruminate or wait for a response before shrugging. “Just give everyone time. Nora clearly trusts you, and that’s something.”

“Thank you, Piper.” Danse offered, his tone genuinely appreciative of the woman’s kindness toward him, given her own apparent distrust of his motives.

“I’m still waiting on that scathing tell-all about the Brotherhood, but, you know where to find me!” She answered, moving to the group that Cait had began arguing with across the way.

“I wouldn’t count on it.” He asserted, to which Piper only answered with a small wave.

Fortunately, the reporter’s sudden absence gave him the ability to focus on the more pressing matter, finding Nora. It was clear after her visit with Nick, she was significantly more introspective than normal, nearly jumping out of her skin at the chance to help Piper with the Christmas Eve preparations. Given their earlier closeness, the sudden change only inspired more conflicting feelings to brew inside him.

Surely he had misinterpreted the situation, misread the apparent intimacy in the way they had been seated together. It was no wonder Nora had practically tripped over herself to get away from him, going so far to run off with the synth detective. Danse hadn’t ever been particularly great at interpreting interpersonal cues, there were many times when Cutler would have to talk their way out of conflict as a direct result of his deficit. It was part of the reason he had appreciated the Brotherhood so much, everything was bound by rules and rank. But whatever had transpired with Nora earlier had no guidebook to help him navigate the situation, and he only hoped that had his attention been unwarranted, she would not harbor any resentment toward him for the misstep.

He pushed the door to the bar open, scanning the area to find it disappointingly empty, save for a small group of civilians gathered at the bar. It was so different from the last time they had been inside, when the place had been nearly overflowing with the city’s residents.

“Ah, is my good friend, Mister Paladin. Come in, have a drink. Yefim has just brought up new batch of Brobov’s, up from basement.” The overly cheerful man behind the bar called, waving him over. “For you? Vadim give discount.”

Danse frowned at he approached, fairly certain he had only had one conversation with the man previously. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m actually looking for someone.”

“Ah, yes of course. Your krasavitsa! Have I told you about daring rescue she make for me?” Vadim continued, apparently unaware of the other man’s lack of interest in hearing the story. “Picture this, yes? Your friend had to battle her way through many many Raiders-”

“Vadim, that’s enough. Leave poor man alone, yes? He doesn’t want to listen to your crazy stories.” The identical man ordered, making his way toward them. “Your friend has leave small bit ago. Check with robot detective man, he is good friend of Miss Nora.”

_Yeah, I'm sure he is._

“Thank you, civilian.” Danse answered, frowning at the idea of encountering the synth for a second time that day. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”

Yefim just grunted in response, turning to argue with Vadim in a language that Danse was thoroughly unfamiliar with. As he exited the bar, he caught sight of the security guard from their previous visit, Danny Sullivan, in heated discourse with the synth himself.

Sullivan looked up suddenly, offering a small wave as he scanned the space behind him. “Hey, you’re back! Good to see you... Is uh, is Nora with you?”

Danse paused, not particularly wanting to reveal that he had lost track of her, but he hoped the other man might have some insight into her whereabouts. “I was actually just attempting to ascertain precisely where she might be.”

“Have you checked the post?” Nick offered, moving to remove a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat and quickly lighting it. The movement was nagging at Danse, seemingly human in the fluidity of the action, but any semblance of humanity was directly opposed by the exposed metal hand holding the cigarette. Why the Institute would program a robot with a proclivity for nicotine was beyond him, but he didn’t bother entertaining the thought longer than a moment.

“The post?” He asked, the words cold and calculated, not wanting to let his clear disdain for the synth to seep into his tone. Nora apparently thought the old bot was her friend, and he could at least attempt courtesy, even if every fiber of his being was telling him to destroy the creature.

“Yeah, she goes up there sometimes to think. Given the holiday, I’d imagine she has quite a bit to think about...” The detective answered, taking another long drag of the cigarette before continuing. “It’s the top floor of Home Plate, just outside the carved out subway car. I’ve never been a gambling man, but I’d be willing to bet that’s where she’s hiding out.”

“Ah shit, Nicky. I didn’t even think about that.” Sullivan answered with a small laugh. “Yeah, she sits up there sometimes, now that I think about it.”

“Your assistance is appreciated...” Danse grumbled, making sure not to address either party specifically as to indicate who he was thanking, or rather who he wasn’t. He quickly turned, not wanting to engage the pair further, and made his way toward the familiar bright red door.

He wasn’t quite sure if it would disrespectful to just walk in, given that it was her home, even if half of Diamond City seemed to come and go as they pleased. Then again, all of his stuff was inside, and it wasn’t like she’d keep him locked out. After a few quick knocks on the door that remained unanswered, he tried the handle, both annoyed and relieved to find it unlocked.

_I’ll have to have a conversation with her about securing her home better._

Blessedly, the home seemed to be absent of any surprise visitors, for once. Danse made his way to the top floor and through the roof hatch, into a makeshift bathroom on one side, separated from the rest of the room by a flimsy wall. He thanked whatever powers that be that Nora had not be utilizing said bathroom when he entered, not wanting to entertain that awkward conversation in particular.

Instead, he saw the back of her head over the top of a rusted metal patio chair, overlooking the bustling market place below. Nora was curled in on herself, holding her knees to her chest as she watched the activity below. There was something so vulnerable about the position that made his chest feel tight as he watched her.

Almost as if she had been expecting him, the chair opposite her was turned to face the marketplace as well, two empty glasses and a couple bottles cluttering the top of the small table.

“Hey Danse.” Nora offered, shooting a small glance toward him as he stilled. “I knew it was you.”

“You left your door unlocked, anyone could have entered your residence.” He chastised, moving to to the other seat with a frown. “It’s tactically disadvantageous to leave your home unlocked.”

She let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she turned her warm gaze to him. “I didn’t want to lock you out. For all I knew, you’d use your newfound skills and kick down my poor door.”

Danse could feel himself smile at the idea, remembering their first ArcJet mission. He had been damn sure she’d lost her mind when she’d instructed him through the process. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Me either.” Nora admitted, an amused smile breaking across her face despite her clear attempts to hide it. “I actually never had to kick down any doors, I just remembered learning how to, in theory, back in my academy days.”

“You didn’t know if it would work?” He accused, watching as the almost guilty expression crossed her face.

“Not one bit. But better for you to try than me, right?” She moved forward to pick the bottle of Gwinett Stout next to her, taking a small swig.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to try an unauthorized and unverified procedure. I could have been gravely injured in the process.” The warning lacked any air of authority and Danse picked up the bottle of liquid closest to him, examining it carefully. There was no label and it wasn’t a brand he recognized off hand, but it didn’t seem particularly offensive.

“You got flung half a mile by a Deathclaw and woke up two days later with nothing more than a scratch on you. I don’t think a rusted old door would be the end of you.” She answered, watching his hands as he uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of liquid into the closest glass. Danse caught sight of her staring at the liquid and before he could inquire as to why, she just shrugged and looked away.

It wasn’t until he took a decent swing of the liquid that he realized exactly why Nora had been staring at him. The liquid burned like fire moving down his throat, hitting his stomach almost instantly. From across the table, he heard Nora stifling her laughter, staring at the festivities below.

“That is... god-awful.” Danse finally said, taking a slow breath as the chilled air only further exasperated the sensation.

“That is Brobov’s Best, courtesy of Vadim and Yefim at the Dugout.” She explained, pressing her lips together as she fought back further laughter, scanning his face that undoubtedly was displaying his distaste.

“You could have warned me, you know... I feel like I drank battery acid.” He objected, his own smile tugging at his lips. It was a small blessing, to see Nora relax enough to laugh, even if it was at his expense.

“No way, Brobov’s is a right of passage. Consider yourself an official Diamond City resident now.” She defended, shooting him an amused glance before looking back down toward the marketplace.

Danse grimaced at the taste of the offending liquid, still burning in the back of his mouth, and made sure to place the glass back on the table and grab out of the lukewarm beers instead. He watched as Nora fiddled with the chain around her neck, eyes distance as she appeared to watch the proceedings below. As much as he loathed to admit it, the synth detective had been right. It was clear the holiday was a source of stress for her, and he wasn’t sure how to offer help in a way that wouldn’t come across as insensitive, but he would be remiss not to try.

“Are you okay?” He inquired, watching her guarded expression drop as she turned toward him.

“I don’t know... It’s weird and I just don’t know how to feel about it.” She explained, meeting his eyes to see if he understand what she was trying to convey, despite the vague terminology. As he nodded carefully, she relaxed a bit and continued. “It was a lot different before, but sitting up here and watching everyone talk and eat and exchange gifts, it doesn’t seem that different. There’s something comforting about it, I guess. To see that as much as the world ended, it really didn’t... I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“I believe I understand what you mean...” Danse stated quietly, watching the citizens mingling below. “Benevolence is the characteristic element of humanity.”

Nora shot him a raised eyebrow at the phrase, pursing her lips slightly. “Did you just quote Confucius to me?”

“I...May have.” He admitted, frowning at her surprised tone. “He was a brilliant tactician of his time. Many of his works have been preserved by the Brotherhood for reference and posterity.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a bookworm, Danse.” She mumbled, taking a small sip of her beer as she watched him.

“It is always wise to be knowledgeable in a variety of topics.” He answered, frowning at the implication.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean anything bad by that, sorry.” Nora rushed, clearly taking note of his fretful expression. “I just... I just mean it’s nice to see the other side of you, to know about your hobbies outside the Brotherhood.”

Danse could feel his heart quicken at the statement, something strangely tender about the idea of her trying to get to know him better. He felt his eyebrows draw together, thinking about what he could possibly tell her about himself that would be of interest to someone as enigmatic as her. Apparently he had been quiet for a few moments too long, because Nora spoke once more.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? I don’t mean to, at all. It’s just... Today’s been weird and surreal...and emotional, I guess.” She looked away quickly, worrying at her bottom lip in the process.

“You’re not making me uncomfortable... Would you like to be alone?” He offered, not particularly fond of the idea, but worried that his presence was unwelcome.

“I’m fine, if you want to go.” Nora answered absentmindedly, still not looking up to meet his eyes. There was something about the evasive answer that nagged at him, a tension in her body that was guarding her true response.

“That’s not what I asked... Do you _want_ to be alone?” Danse pushed, trying to ascertain what she was not saying as much as what she was.

She let out a small breath, looking at him with an expression that bared her entire soul. Pain mixed almost intrinsically with sadness, blending the two into another emotional entirely. The look was also notably marred with relief and gratitude as she scanned his face. By allowing him to see her eyes, completely unguarded by the usual mask of confidence, he felt suddenly like she had unshielded her every defense, exposing the tornado of emotions swirling around her mind.

Such revealing vulnerability from her felt intimate in another way entirely, like Nora had handed him a piece of herself that she was terrified to release, but entrusting to him nonetheless.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” The statement was so achingly sad and hopeful, tearing through him in a way he couldn’t articulate, as if she was afraid he would leave anyway.

“Then I’m here.” Danse promised, allowing his own carefully constructed stoicism to drop as he returned the brief flick of her smile.

“Okay.” She answered, watching him carefully. The word wasn’t much more than a whisper, but he heard it none the less.

“I prefer bluegrass or country-western music, as opposed to whatever it is you’re always playing on your PipBoy.” He offered, remembering Cutler’s amusement at his music choices.

Much to his relief Nora let out a small laugh, raising her eyebrow toward him as she bit back a smile. “Yeah? I can see that, actually...”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it suits you. What would Maxson say if he knew that underneath all that fancy metal armor you were just a country-boy at heart?” She joked, finishing her drink and placing the empty bottle on the table.

“I... I don’t know what that means.” Danse admitted, finishing his own beer. “But I assure you, Arthur Maxson would not appreciate anything less than classical music selections.”

“I can see that too.” She agreed, turning back to the banquet below that was underway. “Does the Brotherhood celebrate Christmas?”

“Not particularly. We are permitted to have the day off, if we requested such leave, but beyond that it’s not really celebrated. Certainly nothing like this.” He pointed to the group below that was talking and eating merrily. “I’ll admit, there is something rather pleasant about the celebration.”

She looked back at him, smiling at his approval. “Yeah, there certainly is... I guess they do this every year, throw a big festival and banquet on Christmas Eve. Some of the neighboring towns make the trip even, bringing food or gifts for their friends and family. Then, on Christmas Day everyone spends their time with their family, for a more private celebration...”

Danse stilled as he heard her trail off, not sure how to comfort her given all she’d lost. There was nothing he could say that would mitigate the pain of the loss or lessen the burden of making it through the day so representative of the family she no longer had.

“We’re going to find Shaun. Next year you want have to go through the holidays alone.”

Nora’s smile only wavered briefly at his affirmation before she moved to stand. “Thank you...But, I’m not alone this year.”

Danse felt his breath catch in his throat at the statement, because as much as it was literal, they were physically there together, sure, the implication was heartfelt. The unspoken words hung in the air, echoing louder than the beat of ‘Bongo Bongo Bongo’ at the festivities beneath them. “No, I supposed you’re not.”

“It’s getting late, we should get some rest...” She narrowed her eyes only briefly. “I’ll take the couch, besides I still have work I need to do downstairs.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “It would be in poor taste for me to take your bed.”

“I don’t think you’d fit on the couch if you so much as tried to stretch out, and we can’t very well share the bed can we?” Nora quipped, moving to open the hatch and begin climbing down.

_Now, that would certainly garner the disapproval of Maxson._

“I suppose that would be rather strange.” Danse admitted as he felt himself go red at the thought, and had to take an extra moment before following her down the hatch.

As much as such an idea was thoroughly unacceptable, he found himself entertaining the image of her curled against him, her hand’s interlocked with his own. He caught himself before he could allow the indecent thoughts to truly spiral out of control, clearing his throat as he got back onto the first landing. By some miracle, Nora had already made it down to the ground floor and wouldn’t be able to bear witness to his flushed face, or the strain of orange fabric.

Danse forced himself to take slow breaths as he settled against the mattress, trying to avoid the feeling pooling in his stomach and push away the flashes of thoroughly decent images from his mind. He cursed himself for allowing himself to entertain such a notion, not that Nora did anything to discourage the idea. Hell, she had outright flirted with him on numerous occasions, and God they way she had looked at him earlier when he cupped her face.

_What the hell do you think you’re doing?_

With a frustrated grunt, he shook his head, laying back down on the mattress, and turning to face the wall. He hoped that sleep would take him sooner than later, not wanting to have to fight the intrusive thoughts or imagines for half the night, certain that if he didn’t sleep soon, he’d be swayed enough to entertain the desires, at least to himself.

The soft sound of Diamond City Radio radiating from below was enough to relax him just enough. Even if the music wasn’t his first choice, the tune was pleasant enough. Danse focused on trying to follow the soft tune, and thankfully was able to drift off into slumber without too much of a struggle.


	30. Happy Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Though things may look very dark  
> Your dream is not in vain  
> For when do you find the rainbow?  
> Only after rain  
> So wish on the moon  
> And someday it may be tomorrow  
> You will suddenly hear chimes  
> And you'll have your happy, happy times'

If Danse had truly expected that his sleep would be free from his earlier thoughts, he was an absolute fool. At least he could defend the dream, having minimal control over the images his mind conjured during his slumber. He sat up in bed, a faint sheen of sweat across his brow. Slamming his eyes closed, he allowed himself a few guilty moments to indulge himself and relive the dream he’d been having before being so rudely awakened.

They had been back on the Prydwen, having just finished up some sort of routine mission in the field. After checking back in with Kells, Nora had slipped off to clean up and Danse had the miraculous good fortune of finding the showers shockingly empty.

After feeling the heat of the shower, he didn’t have time to even process the change of venue, and he was instantly back in his quarters, changed into a black tank top and old-war military fatigue pants. The shocking deviation of uniform wasn’t even causing him any amount of distress as he paced his room.

A faint knock from the door drew his attention, his mind moving in a haze. Even before the door opened, he already knew who it was. Nora had waltzed inside ever so confidently, like being in his quarters wasn’t a blatant violation of regulation in the first place, wearing her far too form-fitting characteristic damn blue vault suit. She lifted herself up onto his desk, flashing her typical amused smile at him, and he walked closer, closing the distance between them.

Nora had brought her hand up to cup his cheek, gently running her thumb over his cheek as she moved forward, bringing herself so close he could feel her breath against his lips.

“Come on Danse, let me teach you a thing or two about finesse.” The words were almost a whisper, half purring as the warmth of her breath teased against his lips, as if daring him to lean in.

Without thinking, he brought his lips against her own, pressing his lips firmly against her own. He felt her lips move in response as she gasped against him, arching forward. Instinctively, he had brought his hands to her hips, pulling her closer as she kissed him back. He could feel her hands pulling at the hem of his shirt, tracing her nimble fingers over his side before moving to palm at his crotch, his erection suddenly hard and pressed against her thigh. A gentle groan echoed against his lips at the movement as he jerked forward at the movement.

Instantly, he brought his hand up to her side, cupping her breast through the fabric and moving to kiss the nape of her neck. The gasps and groans she made under him were intoxicating, even if they were merely figments crafted by his own mind, and she had begun to pull down the zipper of her vault suit, nearly revealing the skin beneath, when he’d woke up, panting in the dim morning cascading across the walls of Home Plate.

Danse was thoroughly bewildered by the events of the dream, having never experienced such intimacy before, and certainly not anything like what he’d felt. While he did have the misfortune from time to time to walk in on some of his fellow soldiers in rather compromising positions, as well as having been frequently regaled by Cutler’s endless claims of his nights with some of the women living along side them in Rivet city, it wasn’t something he’d ever had the opportunity to experience personally.

It wasn’t a lack of interest on his part, he’d just never had anyone he’d been close with in such a manner to where that was an option. After joining the Brotherhood, the idea of relationships or intimacy took the backseat, with his primary focus being on the advancement of his career and moving up through the ranks.

As a rule, he was normally able to stave off his impulses, and on the rare occasions were he couldn’t, he’d been able to handle it himself fairly discreetly. Danse had definitely never had fantasized about someone he knew personally, instead focusing on some of the pictures or magazines he’d seen in passing. A wave of shame struck through him, for not only imagining Nora in such a way, but relishing in the dream even after he was awake enough to know better. He didn’t imagine it was the sort of compliment she’d appreciate, nonetheless.

But as he sat on the edge of the mattress, he knew he was still very hard and aching for release, unable to get the feel of dream-Nora’s hand against his bulging erection out of his mind for more than a few moments before it reemerged. He thought of her shower on the roof, wondering if he would be able to get up there without raising suspicion. The subway car doubling as a bathroom was secluded enough and could serve it’s purpose. He shook his head, refusing to entertain the thought any further. The last thing he needed was associating the images of his dream with the reality of indulging such a fantasy and he knew the urge would dissipate eventually.

Danse pushed himself up from the bed, considering his options. If he was back on the Prydwen he could go for a run, which seemed to clear his head fairly well in the past. However, he didn’t imagine Diamond City had a recreation facility he could utilize. A walk certainly could prove beneficial, and that way he could at least get some form of exercise, even if it wasn’t particularly strenuous.

Making his way down to the ground floor, he was careful to listen for Nora moving around down below. Once scaling the stairs and looking around in the dim room, he finally spotted her curled up on the couch, the small black notebook she always carried laid open on the coffee table.

_While reading through it explicitly would be a clear violation of trust, it wouldn’t be wrong to see what the open page said, at least, would it?_

Danse cautioned a glance to the page, which appeared to be the very first page, furrowing his eyebrows as he read.

_Marcy & Jun_

_Preston_

_Sturges_

_Mama Murphy_

_Wilson Tenpine_

_Danse_

_Rhys_

_Haylen_

_Marie_

_Allison_

_Chase_

_Susanna_

_Nick_

_MacCready_

_Duncan_

He paused, frowning as he noticed his own name on the page in her small, messy writing. It was clear the pages behind the first one had been filled with a multitude of names as well, but Nora had chosen to have it turned to the front page, for some reason. Before he could think any further on it, Nora shifted, blinking up at him through half-conscious eyes.

“Either I’m dreaming or you’re looming over me as I sleep like some sort of psycho-killer.” She mumbled grumpily, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

He stood frozen in place at the accusation, not sure what sort of defense he could offer at what was very clearly his failed attempt at snooping. Any of his usual amusement at her tempestuous personality in the early hours of the morning was replaced by the embarrassment of being caught.

“So which is it?” She pressed, eyes still closed from where she was curled under the grayed out fabric.

“Neither?” Danse offered, faintly hoping she would just drop the topic all together, but he knew better.

“Mhmm.” Nora hummed, opening her eyes once more and slowly blinking in the room. Her gaze feel on the open book on the table, briefly going wide before looking up on him. “Ah, you found my hit list.”

He pursed his lips, debating if she was being sarcastic or not. He knew she probably was, but the drag of sleep in her voice was obfuscating any of her usual tone of amusement. “So I have.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you for last.” She quipped, forcing herself into a sitting position as she ran her hand over her face.

Despite himself, he found the quick grumpy and partly frustrated movement endearing. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“What can I say? You’ve grown on me.” Nora offered a tired smile in response, before finally elaborating on the mysterious little book. “My first Sergeant, Lance Kevins, he told me about ‘The Book’. It’s an old cop’s trick, to write down the name of everyone you’ve helped in any sort of meaningful way... The idea is, that when you’re _struggling_ with the people you can’t save, you open the book and can read the names of the people you _were_ able to make a difference with...”

“It sounds like a phenomenal idea, especially for those engaged in regular combat.” He offered, sensing there might be more to the story than she let on.

“Yeah, that’s the idea. It’s supposed to help cops and vets struggling with...giving up or whatever, to feel like their life is worth while, like they’ve made a difference and actually helped people... It was supposed to help the guys who were really considering suicide, I guess.” She explained, reaching to grab the book and trace the names idly.

Danse felt suddenly weak with sorrow, thinking that Nora might be struggling with such painful thoughts. It wasn’t that such ideas were uncommon, quite the opposite. It was so achingly common, especially given the unique trauma the wasteland could impart, but to think that she would feel so alone and forlorn to consider such means, nearly destroyed him as well.

Clearing his throat, he moved to sit on the arm of the couch. “Are you struggling with such thoughts?”

“What? No.” She answered instantly, shaking her head with a frown. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it when I first woke up, that it would be easier, to just... But that’s not my struggle, not really.” Nora firmly cleared her throat, her tone somber and analytical. “My old friend, Kevins, he completed suicide right before I left the force. I just always think about him around the holidays. Thus, ‘The Book’... Despite it being his idea, it couldn’t save him, ultimately.”

She paused, closing her eyes for a heavy moment, and Danse knew what she was thinking, the unspoken guilt hanging over her head.

_I couldn’t save him._

Letting out a slow breath, she continued “ Sometimes, ‘The Book’ is great for perspective. On days when it seems like I’m not doing enough, or when it feels like Shaun is so impossibly far away.”

“A change of perspective can be vital to thoroughly considering a multitude of factors.” He offered, unsure if ruminating about the loss of her friend would be more harmful than cathartic. “You know, if you ever feel such a way, and wish as speak with someone-”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Nora answered with a shrug, stretching her back in a way that Danse was trying to ignore, given the grim topic of conversation.

“Really?” He blurted, the words leaving his mouth before he could reign them in.

“Yeah, of course...” She offered a quick smile, moving her head to stretch her neck. “You’re my lifeline.”

Danse could feel his heart rate accelerate at the comment, blinking as he turned to watch her tired expression. “I’m sorry?”

The words were about all he could manage, trying to stymie the growing sense of confusion in his mind. If the events of the last twenty four hours weren’t wild enough, he had to admit that she had been rather unpredictable, ever since they first met. Even if it was curious at times, the woman was always prone to surprise. Their conversation was blatantly candid, and to hear Nora offer such a genuine sentiment about her trust in him was like a drug he already knew he’d be addicted to.

“An old saying, I guess... I doesn’t really matter.” She rushed, frowning at the antiquated reference.

“What does it mean?” He pressed, eager to validate her confession.

Nora offered a tired smile before elaborating. “It’s like, if everything else in your life went to shit, ‘your lifeline’ is who you’d call to help you out of it.”

“I see.” The idea was foreign, to say the least. Danse couldn’t remember when he’d really needed someone to help him pick up the metaphorical pieces of anything before. Sure, Cutler had been able to talk them out of more than a few fights, but to be fair, he also talked them into plenty as well.

“Sorry to go getting sentimental on you, Danse.” As soon as she had uttered the words, her cool composure had returned, steeling her features into her mask of confidence. She moved to swing her legs over the edge of the couch, raising her eyebrow at his surprised expression. “Honestly, you’re lucky I didn’t knock you on your ass for standing over me like that.”

“I assure you, I was not ‘standing over’ you.” He defended, scowling at the implication that he was behaving in any sort of indecent or predatory manner.

“Ah, damn. I always wanted a guardian angel.” Nora joked, shaking her head, apparently amused at her own retort. “Though, if I ever had one, I’m pretty sure mine bailed ages ago.”

Danse offered a faint smile at the thought of such a creature. “I don’t know, you seem to have been fairly fortunate in your endeavors, thus far.”

“Yeah?” She asked, turning to him suddenly and narrowing her eyes. The fluid movement was alarming in it’s own right, not to mention the defiant look in her eyes that would have turned lesser people to stone on the spot. “That’s because I’ve worked my ass off to survive. Because I have people and friends who have yanked me up by my boot straps when I needed it... I’m not trying to be difficult or stubborn, but the reason I’m still here is because of hard work and human kindness. Not some man in the sky who was more than happy to sit back and watch his children throw nuclear bombs at each other in some egotistical pissing contest.”

The juxtaposition of religion statements was surprising, to say the least. While Nora had objected the idea of religion at every step, she spoke as if it was part of her ethos. Danse recalled her previous mention of a religious upbringing, wondering exactly how adherent to religion her family had been. Given her vigorous condemnation of it and expansive knowledge, he figured the answer was very.

“Our human compassion binds us the one to the other.” Danse stated, scanning her face for signs of derision. Much to his surprise, she looked up, her eyes going wide as she finished the quote.

“Not in pity or patronizingly, but as human beings who have learned how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future.” The earnest look on her face made his stomach feel fluid, moving with every microscopic flinch of her expression.

“You know it?” He asked, trying to temper his shocked tone.

Nora sucked in a quick breath before nodding. “Yeah... I know it.”

Before he could prod further, she moved to a stand, disappearing into the kitchen area in a flash. The clang of pans was the only indication she hadn’t slipped out the back entrance, followed by the sound of glass breaking several moments later.

“Jesus fuck.” She cursed, as Danse moved to head to the other room.

As he entered, he saw faded yellow shards of ceramic scattered across the floor, accompanied by a brown liquid.“Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine.” She snapped, stomping off to grab the broom from the corner. As she turned back to him, she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, which he thoroughly ignored.

“Nora.” He urged, trying to catch her eye as she swept of the fragments into a pile.

“I’m fine!” With a quick movement, she move to face him, suddenly most closer than he’d anticipated. “Sorry...I just. It’s too fucking early for this shit. I need coffee.”

Danse cocked his head as Nora turned back to the pot, boiling on the hotplate, still filled with a bitter smelling liquid. “Coffee?”

“You don’t know what coffee is?” She accused, moving to take the pot from the plate and placing it on a worn oven mitt.

“I’ve heard of it, but from what I recall, it’s a luxury very few in the wasteland can afford, given it’s scarcity.” It certainly wasn’t something that had ever passed through his stand in Rivet City, and the Brotherhood certainly wouldn’t carry such an unconventional product.

Nora turned toward him, raising an eyebrow at his curious expression. “Do you want to try some?”

*

It should not have been so wickedly satisfying to watch Danse sip coffee from one of her old, chipped mugs as they sat situated around the rickety picnic table. But then again, she had always been a horrible influence on people really, when it came to trying things they probably shouldn’t. There was something almost sinfully pleasant about corrupting him with the hefty dose of caffeine in the brew. Nuka Cola was caffeinated, sure, but nothing comparable to the caffeine content of coffee, much less the espresso she had made for them. At the very least, it distracted Danse from their earlier topic of conversation.

At the first taste of the brew, he grimaced, shooting her a questioning glance as she drank from her own mug. As if sensing her amusement, he cautioned another taste of the bitter liquid, bringing his eyebrows down and pressing his lips together in thought.

“Only _you_ could make drinking coffee look like you’re trying to figure out the meaning of life.” She joked, watching as he took another drink, nodding carefully.

Danse looked up at that, frowning at her jab. “It’s flavor is fairly complex, but not unpleasant. Despite it’s acerbic bite, it is rather enjoyable... I can see why it holds such a high value across the wasteland.”

Nora had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the protracted statement. “It’s nice, Danse. You can just say it’s nice.”

“Its... nice.” He acquiesced, taking another languid sip of the coffee in a careful movement that was almost maddening.

There was something profoundly satisfying about hearing him mirror her words, inspiring a thoroughly indecent feeling in her stomach that she was determined not to acknowledge.

“It goes pretty well with snack cakes and sweet rolls.” She offered, pointing to the pastries she had snagged from the pantry before moving to her wasteland-style dining room table. Danse cocked his head to the side, examining the packages, still surprisingly vibrant after two centuries of radiation. Nora idly thought it had to do with all the chemicals and preservatives Kenton Foods had been adding for decades before the war, but had no way to verify such a theory. Not that it mattered anymore.

“It’s not the most nutritious breakfast option available...” He started, looking up to scan her expression.

“It’s Christmas, Danse. We get to eat junk food for breakfast on Christmas.” Nora could feel her wry smile teasing at her lips, watching as he reached for the box of snack cakes.

“Well, if you’re quite certain. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of such tradition.” The words were slightly quicker than his normal tone, either motivated by the promise of the sugary cakes or from the effect of the caffeine.

“It actually was a tradition for us.” She divulged, thinking back to the early Christmas mornings she’d had with her family, back before their lives went to shit. “Will would always wake us up at the ass-crack of dawn to sneak out to the living room and inspect our presents before our parents could get up. We thought we were being so sneaky, tiptoeing down the stairs and eating the leftover cookies we’d leave out...”

Nora closed her eyes, not wanting to imagine what fates had befallen the rest of her family when the bombs dropped. At the same time, she so desperately wanted to remember the happy Christmas mornings with them, before the family dinner when the alcohol and tempers would run free.

“Will?” Danse asked, drawing her out of the memory in an instant.

She cleared her throat, trying to blink back the hot pinch of tears along her eyes. “He was my brother. My older brother... He died a few years back. Well, before the Vault, at least...”

“I’m sorry.” The tone was gentle and understanding, cutting through her chest like a hot knife as she felt the heavy gaze on the side of her face.

“Thank you... He was a vet, like my father. Will served in the Army for a few years, but quickly figured out it wasn’t a good fit for him. He tried to leave, but... Well the Army doesn’t take to kindly to losing their soldiers.” She could feel her throat growing tighter at the stab of sadness wracking through her body. “He had been out for almost a year when he got the notice that they were drafting him back. Will, he just couldn’t do it, couldn’t be around all that death anymore, so he ran. Defected, or whatever they called it. He got into drugs pretty hard for a while, and ultimately he overdosed. It was a hit of Med-X that had been cut with something.”

Nora tried to recall how full of life Will had been, before the military had drained all of the miraculous things that had made him who he was. His sunken eyes and distance gaze was the last memory she’d had of him, when she had begged him to get help, or turn himself in.

“The military used to force people into joining their ranks?” Danse accused, disdain clear in his tone. “That’s horrendous. There are people who can not and should not be engaged in combat.”

“Yeah. That’s the government for you.” She bit, an angry laugh forming in the back of her throat that she tried to fight. “But he was a good person. You’d never find anyone more soft-hearted than Will. He only joined because my dad had pressured him into it, told him that he wasn’t smart enough to go to college and the Army was his best chance... Will wanted to be an artist, but there wasn’t exactly a big demand for that at the time.”

“Inherent artistic talent is an under-appreciated skill. It’s a shame he wasn’t allowed to pursue his passions.” She looked over at his sympathetic tone, struck by a sudden feeling of kinship, the profound electric shock of being both seen and understood.

“Yeah... He had this sketch book, full of the most beautiful drawings you could imagine. I’d give anything to see it again.” Nora watched as Danse nodded, his eyes wide and compassionate as he watched her own. “The best gift I ever received was this picture he drew for me, after I graduated the academy. Will had painted me like some sort of guardian angel, surrounded by this amazing kaleidoscope of light... He had the most beautiful comprehension of colors, and it was breathtaking.”

“I can’t image how exquisite it must have been.” He offered earnestly as he fiddled with the now-empty mug in his hands.

“I wish there was some way for me to show you.” She admitted, yearning for the chance to show him how stunning the world had been.

“You explain it marvelously.”

The statement made Nora feel suddenly far too warm, surpassing any heat that she could attribute to the coffee coursing through her system. While she could charm the hell out of people, a smile and a laugh doing more than any mastery of words ever could, she’d never been one known for her eloquent explanations. Years of writing dry and boring police reports could do that, the words painfully redundant as they wholly adhered to procedure and legalese.

“Thanks... That means a lot, coming from you.” She admitted, turning to look at the worn floor in an attempt to hide how flattered she was.

“What do you mean?” His question surprised her, and Nora let out a happy chuckle, squinting as she tried to ascertain if he was serious in his inquiry.

“You... You have a way with words, I guess.” She thought about the extensive vocabulary he had a tendency to dispense at seemingly random times with a feeling of fondness blooming in her chest. “Hell, half the terms you use sound like shit I’d heard back in English Lit.” Danse shot her an irritated look, and she quickly tried to clarify her statement. “I just mean, you’re good with words. I’m not. I’m much better with people.”

He frowned, looking toward the empty mug once more before answering. “I enjoy hearing you talk about how it was... before, I mean.”

Had she not been already seated, Nora was certain she would have fallen back in shock at his words. Because not only had Danse allowed her to reminisce about her life before, he actually was encouraging her to share. She had always feared her stories were something he merely tolerated, much like the war tales her Uncles would share over holiday dinners that she had desperately tried to avoid. After all, who in their right mind wanted to hear about the boring day to day musings in the life of an ex-cop turned housewife?

_Danse would, you idiot. That’s who._

“Want me to tell you more about our old-world holiday traditions?” She tried, her heart beating against her chest like she had consumed the whole block of coffee, not just a cup.

“I would be honored.” Danse answered, offering a genuine smile from across the table that assured her, he would listen to her with rapt, undivided attention.

*

He listened eagerly as Nora spoke, hanging on every word she’d share, small pieces of her falling into place with every story she’d grace him with. It was clear that many of the memories were cherished and painful, while others were nothing more than funny tales about the trouble she’d found herself in during her ‘college days’. Danse was aware of his heart pounding against his chest, a sensation that he was fairly familiar with when she was involved, but there seemed something even more aggressive about it than he was used to.

A faint memory nagged at him, recalling that coffee had a tendency to make it’s consumers more alert, increasing one’s pulse and metabolism. However, Nora seemed fairly unaffected by the beverage, if anything, she seemed more focused and at ease.

He wasn’t sure how long they had stayed seated at the table, eating the sweet pastries and chatting about the world as it was before the war. By the time she had apparently run out of things to talk about, already covering the multitude of holidays they’d had, including Halloween, Hanukkah, and New Years Eve, Danse estimated it was mid-morning.

“I guess I’ve wasted enough of the day making you listen to my old-world blues.” She offered with a self-deprecating scoff.

“I appreciated every moment.” He reassured, trying not to ruminate over the wide eyed look he’d earned in return for such support. “I assure you, I could never grow tired of you sharing memories.”

Nora let out a quick breath, quickly coughing in response. “You’re going to wear me out, Danse.”

The words seared into his mind, bringing back the memories of his earlier dream with a start. As much as he was fairly certain the words hadn’t been flirtatious in nature, he couldn’t redirect his mind from thinking about how exactly he could ‘wear her out’, as it were. Clearing his throat, he cautioned a glance at the clock.

_You’re entering dangerous territory here, Paladin._

“It does appear we have been speaking for quite a while. Did you have other plans for the day?” He thought about the synthetic detective, ‘Nick’, from the previous day, and hoped any plans were miraculously free from the robot’s presence.

“I didn’t have anything planned...” Nora paused, staring at an empty spot in the corner; it was clear there was something she hadn’t wanted to say.

“Except?” He prodded, noting the tension in her shoulders at his words.

“I know it’s a holiday and all... But I was hoping to get the drop on this Courser, but I don’t want to rush you-” Before she could offer any further objection, he shook his head.

“I am happy to continue our mission. As much as I appreciate our time together, I recognize the importance of acting expeditiously.” _And if I stay cooped up in your house all day I might act irrationally with you._ The thought should’ve startled him, made him feel ashamed, but the tender look Nora had shot him at his words verified with absolute certainty that if they remained he would be prone to impulse.

“Thanks, Danse. What would I do without you?” She joked, grabbing the empty mugs from the table and placing them on the counter.

“I wouldn’t want to consider what sort of trouble you’d find yourself involved with.” He answered with a frown, watching as she straightened up the counter.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that? Sometime you gotta misbehave a little. You should try it sometime.” Nora shot him a look over her shoulder, blatantly fighting a smirk from yanking at the corners of her mouth. That time, her tone was obviously flirtatious, and Danse hardly registered the statement before she disappeared upstairs.

As the minutes passed, it gave him time to wonder about her apparent flirtations. He wondered if she was doing it intentionally, if his own interest was so obvious that she was deciding to entertain him with such innuendos. A growing part of him hoped she was actually genuine, but he quickly dismissed the idea. There was no way she would truly consider him in such a way.

_It doesn’t matter, she’s your subordinate. You couldn’t in good conscious go down that route._

The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted him to her return, having changed into her flight uniform, the orange fabric giving her a near ethereal glow.

“Figured we have a long day ahead of us, might as well dress practically.” She offered, moving to the workbench to pull out several boxes of fusion cells.

“Affirmative.” He answered, looking at his own suit. “If you’d allow me a few minutes to get ready, we can leave by eleven-hundred.”

“Take your time.” She answered, waving him away as he tried to push the images of unbuckling the collar of her flight suit out of his mind.

Fortunately for him, he was able to focus on their mission parameters, going over their objectives in his mind. Danse relinquished control of his thoughts, allowing the soldier in his mind to take the reigns as he considered what sort of resources and ammunition would be ideal to take, along with a couple lightweight backup weapons, should misfortune strike. There was something comforting about allowing his training to overtake him, an adherence to rules that offered predictably and stability in his life.

A predictably that was shattered when he considered anything involving Nora. Procedure had guided a majority of his life for well over a decade, providing the framework for everything he’d thought he wanted during his service with the Brotherhood. A career that he was more than happy to put in jeopardy at the slightest indication that she had wanted his help.

He would be lying to himself if he maintained that it had been the logical choice, considering.

But there was no use in dwelling on that which he could not change, and he hurriedly made his way back downstairs. “Ready to continue our mission, soldier?”

Nora froze from where she was tightening the laces on her boots, a slight redness creeping into her cheeks at the words. Danse noticed the color change immediately, but before he could entertain the meaning of such a reaction, she stood, flipping on the PipBoy with a quick smile.

“Ready when you are, boss.”

*

Much as Virgil had indicated, a faint frequency appeared on the screen of her PipBoy as they approached the ruins of what had once been the famed Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The irony of the illustrious organization’s namesake would have been downright hilarious, had the reality of how the Institute was right under her nose the entire time not been so jarring. It had taken nearly two hours just to get to the destitute structures of the former college, not counting the past hour they wasted walking in literal circles around the place.

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind if this Institute bastard doesn’t show his face.” Nora complained, grunting when the signal appeared to wane as they circled back to the courtyard.

“It appeared to be strongest due east of here, if I’m not mistaken.” Danse offered with a frown, scanning the area indicated.

“What? How can you tell?” She snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. Unless he had some sort of super-sonic hearing, there was no discernible difference to the tone she’d heard in any specific direction. Then again, she was fairly certain she’d heard metaphorical crickets when first clicking over to the frequency, despite his insistence that the it was faintly beeping.

“It... Sounded stronger due east of here.” He struggled, clearly trying to explain what he apparently thought was obvious.

Nora grit her teeth, extending her arm dramatically in front of her. “Then feel free to lead the way here... Not like you could’ve mentioned that an hour ago.”

“You seemed fairly determined of our intended direction.” There was a tone of amusement in the response that did not escape her.

"You seemed pretty fucking ‘determined’ to let me lead.” She accused, biting her cheek as she watched his careful expression. “It’s easy, you know. ‘Hey, Nora, you’re walking the wrong way, let’s try going east’.”

“I think I’d prefer a second round with the Deathclaw.” Danse muttered, a slight smirk gracing his face as she glared at him.

“Yeah? You think you’re funny? Next time I’ll leave your ass down there.” She quipped, unable to fight her own smile in response.

He looked toward the horizon, starting east from the ruins. “I hardly see how your apparent lack of tone differentiation is my responsibility.”

“Are you calling me tone-deaf?” Nora tried to fight the growing sense of indignation at his appraisal of her abilities, or lack thereof.

“It does seem pertinent, given your lack of recognition to the variations in the tone.” He answered matter-of-factly, shooting her a quick glance as she followed him.

“You wouldn’t be the first.” She admitted, recalling Nate’s pleas for her to stop trying to sing power ballads after a few too many margaritas.

Danse cautioned a raised eyebrow in response, pointing to the looming building in the distance. “Given the increased frequency of the tone, I’d be willing to deduce the Courser might be holed up inside there.”

“Greenetech Genetics.” The building was unmistakable against the horizon, the bright teal only partially faded by time.

“Are you familiar with this location?” He queried, a sudden tension in his voice.

“Not personally, no. But there was a lot of buzz back in the day about this place. Supposedly some of the scientists working with Vault Tec got their start here.” She shuddered at the thought that the very people who contributed to the end of the world were nothing more than eager college students experimenting with technology, unaware of the catastrophic destruction their studies would ultimately unleash.

"Fitting.” The answer was humorless, borderline angry, and Nora appreciated the sentiment whole heartedly.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” She let out an angry scoff at the thought, fighting the burning urge in her body to turn and run. With every ounce of courage she could muster, she followed Danse into the building without another word.

Had the voice of the loudspeaker not abridged them of the Courser’s location, it would have been painfully easy to ascertain the direction the synth had taken, given the trail of bodies along the floor. The crumbled figures appeared to put up very little in the way of resistance, a few bloody stains across their chests the only indication they had met their bitter end. There was something almost too easy about making their way to the upper levels, their path seemingly unopposed save for a spare Raider or two that would jump out.

That was the benefit about traveling with Danse, he seemed to sense the assailants presence even before they would round the corner. He was also instantaneous with his shots, dispensing their-would-be attackers with a flick of his wrist. It was strange, in a way to be able to trust someone else completely in the heat of battle, like he was an extension of her self.

It wasn’t until they made their way to the top floor that she had heard any actual signs of life. An angry male voice nearly taunted the answering whimpers, pressing his victims for answers about some sort of ‘recall code’ he believed they had.

Nick had indicated that Coursers were killing machines, clad in black leather, with the ability to strike fear in the hearts of men. Had Nora known how frightening her target would actually be, radiation a dangerous energy that rival a nuclear implosion, she might have been persuaded to turn around and bail. Except that as she stared at the back of the imposing figure, her rage peaked once more, remembering the Courser that had taken her son in Kellogg's memories, dragging him back to the Institute at a moment’s notice.

Before she could think, her rifle was raised and trained on the back of the man’s head, focusing in on the mess of brown hair. She yanked the trigger, a weird sensation of panic and relief as she saw the man spin on his heels, facing her. From behind her, she heard the electric charge of Danse’s own rifle heating up. The burst of red light from both her and Danse’s weapons illuminated the Courser, even as he disappeared from view with the aid of a Stealth Boy, the ripples reflected the red glow of the fusions cells, painting his figure against the dingy walls.

In what felt like both seconds and hours, the synth crumbled, his furious gaze draining to a pained distance as he died, letting out a shaky breath before going painfully still.

“Please! Help me, the woman’s body in the corner. She has the key in her front pocket!” The voice urged from behind the glass next to them, the imprisoned woman pointing toward the bloodied figure in the corner.

Nora shot over to where the woman had indicated, trying not to flinch as she searched the departed woman’s corpse, retrieving the key from her front pocket as directed. As the sound of her pulse pounded in her ears, she moved to unlock the heavy metal door, revealing the petite blonde woman inside.

“Thank you! I... I don’t want to be rude, but the sooner I get out of here and we part ways, the safer you’ll be.” The woman stated, scanning both Nora and Danse’s faces with a calculated expression.

“You’re a synth.” Nora stated, watching the defiant look in the younger woman’s eyes.

“That’s what they tell me, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m just a woman. My name is Jenny. I don’t believe in the designation they give me at birth, and I refuse to share that with anyone who doesn’t already know it.” Jenny insisted, as if daring them to challenge her.

Nora quickly nodded, understanding the woman’s aversion to her issued identity. “Jenny, if you ever need anything, head toward Sanctuary. We accept all, regardless of where you come from.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting this _synth_ go.” Danse accused from behind her, glaring at the woman but not acting to stop her, at least.

She could feel her anger swell, spinning to face him in an instant, as Jenny slipped out around him. “Look at that woman and tell me that you are confidant beyond a reasonable doubt that she’s a synth. Regardless of what she says, would you bet your life on it? Would you bet mine? Because I wouldn’t. She’s a person, the first one all day who hasn’t tried to kill us. Can you tell me in good faith you’d kill her just because she _might_ be a synth?”

The angry words hung in the air above their heads, dancing instantly with the resounding silence that echoed around them. If Danse considered objecting past his initial complaint, he made no indication that he wished to express such disapproval, which she was eternally grateful for.

“Now, unless you want to dig through his skull with me, I’d suggest you stand watch outside.” She warned, moving to squat next to the Courser’s body in front of her.

Every instinct in her body screamed at her how wrong it was to sift through someone’s brain matter for a clue inside the Institute. It was horrifyingly repulsive, but she persisted, fighting the bile that crept up her throat as she reached for the glistening metal among the flesh. Without a moment of hesitation, she pocket the device and moved toward where Danse was standing guard, trying not to think of how warm the blood felt against her fingers, or how the hot liquid was staining the pocket of her flight suit.

“Let’s go.” She mumbled, trying not to think about the empty clouded eyes that were all too happy to haunt her as she made her way to the elevator. It was just another pair to follow her every move, chasing her as she tried to find her son. But in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to give a damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has exceeded 400 pages so that's cool I guess


	31. Right Behind You Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Well, you can make-up your face, dye your hair  
> No matter what you do, turn around and I'll be there  
> Because I'm right behind you baby  
> Right behind you baby  
> Well, I'm right behind you baby  
> And you're never gonna get away'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so don't be mad, I know this chapter is gonna be a little hokey. We're getting a bit more canon divergent now, because like... Danse follows you as you collect the courser chip and the holotape shit and then you can just be like "anyways now I'm going to give this to the exact opposite of the Brotherhood"
> 
> And yeah... Angst! Because secrets!
> 
> Also Deacon is kinda a weirdo, but there's a good reason. *insert uncomfortable mission related flirting between the WRONG people*
> 
> Will edit later.
> 
> As it stands, full editing(for grammar, not content) has been done up to chapter 7.

Danse was furious as he followed behind Nora, the synth ‘Jenny’ still eagerly searching through the cabinets behind them as they entered the stairwell. It went against everything the Brotherhood of Steel stood for to leave the synthetic humanoid alive, but even more infuriating was the fact that Nora had made a perfectly valid point as to why sparing her was necessary. Save for the other woman’s claim that she was a synth, there was no other evidence of her alleged origin.

It was no secret that the Institute had managed to replace actual humans with their synth doppelgangers in order to infiltrate the populace, but there was very little corroborating evidence about how authentic their creations were. The few incidents where there were confirmed attacks attributed to synths, there had been clear evidence that the assailants were synthetic, whether it be mangled plastic or metallic internal mechanisms of the attackers. But the Courser, despite the small device Nora had removed from his head, appeared just as human as any of the Gunners who’s bodies littered the floor.

The whole situation was confusing and maddening, because by every account, the Courser and Jenny appeared fully human, but he knew that they weren’t. He couldn’t wrap his head around the conflicting information, a fact which only inspired additional frustration. It didn’t help that Nora was clearly furious at him for suggesting the other woman was anything less than human.

They walked in silence for a majority of their journey back to Diamond City, Nora shockingly silent as they went, not even attempting to fill the uncomfortable silence with the usual tunes of her radio. She hadn’t so much as looked in his direction since exiting Greenetech, a fact which nagged at him, endlessly expounding with every step.

“You’re upset with me.” Danse offered, finally giving into the impending awkward conversation. It wasn’t a question as much as a statement, given the anger rolling off of Nora in cataclysmic waves.

“Why would you think that?” Nora asked dryly, still staring straight ahead as they walked.

“Nora.” He pleaded as he watched her hardened expression for any sign of wavering. It was obvious she was avoiding the conversation, but he was desperate to clear the air. “You won’t even look at me.”

At that she hesitated, her shoulders suddenly tensing as she stopped and closed her eyes with a heavy sigh. As she opened them, she turned toward him, meeting his eyes with her own, an undeniable fury building behind them.

“Were you really going to kill her?”

The question felt more like a condemnation, and he had to restrain himself from flinching from the harshness in her tone. Being the focus of Nora’s burning gaze was a different sort of torture, one he never wanted to be subjected to again if he could prevent it.

“I... I’m not sure.” He admitted, taking a long moment to consider what he really would have done had he undertaken their mission on his own. Prior to traveling with Nora, the answer would have been an assured one, but she certainly had a way of changing his perspective. “The Brotherhood’s stance on synths is quite clear. That synth is a freak of nature.”

“That synth, is a terrified young woman.” Nora urged, her impassioned words pouring from her with every ounce of sympathy she had. “Not only was she held hostage by a group of Gunners, she’s on the run from the _Institute_. The very organization that has no qualms about kidnapping Shaun and murdering Nate. Who knows what they would have done to her.”

“That alone is exactly why the Brotherhood is trying to destroy the Institute. She is the very example of where mankind has been led astray, a perversion of scientific hubris gone too far.” Danse maintained, his answer cold and calculated, a recitation of the very ideals Maxson spouted during regular briefings. It was what he was taught ever since learning about the existence of synths, but as he thought of Jenny, a small part of him wondered about the validity of Maxson’s analysis.

“That’s bullshit!” She exploded, stepping closer to him to make her point. Despite the fact that he towered over her in his Power Armor, he had to admit there was something intimidating about the movement. “Did you hear how terrified she was? That’s not the response of a machine, Danse.” 

“I... I will admit that she seemed rather emotive in a way I was not aware synths could emulate.” He agreed, ignoring the guilty feeling growing in his stomach about his implied approval of the synth that went against his every instinct and training.

“Yeah, like a fucking person.” She snapped, meeting his eyes in an almost aggressive challenge. Danse thought better than to offer any further comment on the matter, sensing her growing frustration. At his lack of response, Nora sighed, her gaze softening slightly. “Listen, I get it... The idea of the Institute replacing people with synth versions of themselves or creating people through some sort of unethical science experience is _terrifying_. But... Anyone who doesn’t start shooting at me is good in my book.”

“Yes, that does seem to be your policy.” Danse muttered, recalling her previous iteration of such ethos when she had allowed Strong to walk away unscathed, even go so far to shake the mutant’s hand. Despite her insistence that the monstrous creature was friendly, the thought was still just as horrifying as when he’d initially witnessed the exchange.

“Call it my old-world ethics.” She answered plainly, stepping back and turning back toward the direction of Diamond City. It was obvious that she didn’t want to entertain the topic further, and given her careful tone, he figured she was disappointed with his answer regarding the matter.

Squinting at the sun above, Danse estimated they were still another hour away from Diamond City, and another two from Cambridge. “If you’d like, we might be able to make it to Cambridge Police Station before dark. I’m sure Elder Maxson is eager for an update regarding our mission and the scribes will undoubtedly be eager to begin decoding the device you retrieved.”

Nora froze at his words, quickly clearing her throat as she caught his glance. “I’d really like to spend the night in Diamond City, if you don’t mind... I have some last minute business I have to wrap up there before we head back out.”

There was something evasive in her answer that he couldn’t quite place, but he chalked it up to their disagreement and opposing views. He figured she just wanted to check in with her friends before heading back up to the Prydwen, which seemed fair enough. “Of course. We can leave in the morning, then.”

She offered him a curt nod, staring at the crumbling asphalt in front of them before resuming their trek. “I have to stop by Nick’s for a bit after we get to the city. I, uh, I figured you could manage for a bit until I get back?”

“I assure you, I am more than capable of looking after myself.” He confirmed, frowning at her apparent business with the detective. In spite of their candid conversation, the thought of Nora being alone with the synth bothered him to no end, but he was absolutely not going to incur any more of her wrath by voicing his concern. “But I appreciate the consideration.”

“I’m pretty sure Danny would be more than happy to pick your brain about some weapon mods he was considering.” She shrugged, a hint of a smirk teasing the edge of her lips. “I told him you’re the expert with that sort of thing.”

The thought of Nora expressing her confidence in his weapon knowledge to her friends inspired a sense of pride in his chest. Considering firearm modification was one of his favorite topics of conversation, he was thrilled at the opportunity to impart his wisdom to the younger man.

“I’d be happy to help Sullivan in whatever way I can.” Danse assured her, relieved that his words seemed to sooth a bit of the tension between them as she watch him, her expression more relaxed than it had previously been.

“Thanks, Danse. He’ll be thrilled.” Nora nodded to the PipBoy with a smile. “It might not be bluegrass, but would you object to the soothing sounds of ‘Travis Lonely Miles’?”

The amused, mocking tone she emulated at the radio moniker quelled any of his worry that she was still irritated at him, apparently deciding to move past their earlier conversation. It was something he had noticed about her early on. Despite her short temper, Nora seemed to let go of anger just as fast, like the strike of a match, burning bright and going out just as quickly as it was lit.

“It is definitely preferable to the Classical Radio station.” He answered, pleased when the gentle notes of one the newly added songs began, the velvety voice of the singer only known as ‘Magnolia’ filled the air.

Fortunately, the remainder of their journey to Diamond City had been uneventful, the roads still cleared from their trek through the area earlier in the day. There hadn’t even been any ferals to reclaim the ruins of the dusty Slocum Joe’s that Nora insisted on searching once more, muttering something incoherent about components of old-world espresso machines.

Unsurprisingly, Danny had been waiting at the guard station just inside the city, and had practically beamed when he saw them. “Nora! Danse! We wondered where you went. Piper was looking for you guys earlier. Then she said something about you running off again.”

Next to him, Danse heard Nora sigh, shaking her head as she answered. “Ah, shit. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to stop by the Publick. Hey, but good news! Danse said he’d be thrilled to help you with those weapon mods you were talking about.”

“Really?” The younger man’s eyes went wide and he turned toward Danse with a broad smile. “Oh man, thank you! I can’t tell you how hopeless Arturo is when it comes to laser rifles.”

“Of course. The Brotherhood relies primarily on energy weapons, but I’m aware they’re not particularly common among civilians.” He replied, turning to Nora with a quick nod as he noticed her pointing down to the marketplace.

She disappeared down the stairs with a quick wave in his direction and he turned back to the Danny. “What model is it we’re working on today?”

*

Nora was dreading returning to Home Plate after her meeting with Nick, not wanting to break the news to Danse that she wouldn’t actually be turning the Courser chip over to the Brotherhood after all. She knew that the time would come when she would need to make the decision about who to trust with the information, she just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. But the second Nick confirmed that he personally knew someone who could decode the chip, who had actually successfully done so in the past, her choice had been made for her.

Shaun always was and always would be her priority, she had made her motivations clear from day one. Yet, the idea of having to tell Danse that she was betraying the Brotherhood, and by extension him as well, made her feel physically ill. She had intentionally neglected to mention that the previous night Nick had informed her he might have a contact who had worked with Institute technology in the past, thinking it was only a possible lead and it definitely wouldn’t be a sure thing. Except now it was and now she had to face the metaphorical music.

She thought it would be nothing short of a miracle if Danse didn’t end up throwing her out of the Brotherhood and stripping her of her rank by the end of the night.

With a long sigh, Nora pushed open the door to Home Plate, allowing only a brief moment to enjoy the sight of Danse working on his armor in the corner. She was certain it would be the last time he would look so at home in the place, and savored the image in what she was sure would one day be nothing more than a painful memory.

_It was bound to happen, sooner or later. He bleeds Brotherhood and you were never one to adhere to procedure..._

Danse looked up suddenly, appearing to sense her presence. His gentle smirk was quickly replaced by a frown as he scanned her face. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Nora ran her hand over her face, closing her eyes as she massaged her temples. Just as she could feel the surge of panic well in her chest, she felt the strong familiar hands grasping her upper arms and opened her eyes. It was excruciating to see Danse watching her with his familiar kind gaze, to feel his gentle grip against her and to know that she was going to fail him so significantly.

She couldn’t quite find the words to be eloquent or careful about the truth that would undoubtedly hurt them both. “I’m not giving Maxson the Courser chip. Or the holotape, for that matter.”

At her words, he froze, dropping his arms to his side as his expression rapidly cycled through a myriad of emotions ranging from confusion to anger and back again. It was several aching minutes before he recomposed his expression into that of an ever dutiful soldier.

“I don’t understand.” He finally stated, his words pinched and controlled as he scanned her face.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t turn them over to the Brotherhood.” Nora could hear her own shaky breath echo in the otherwise silent shack, cascades of guilt pouring over her.

“Why can’t you?” He demanded, his stare burning into her own, still carefully hiding any sense of emotion within. “The Brotherhood has the most advanced resources in the Commonwealth and are your best chance to decode the information on that chip.”

“I... Has the Brotherhood ever decoded a Courser chip? Because I found someone who has before, and... I can’t risk turning it over to the Brotherhood and losing that data.” She was suddenly aware of the burn of tears trying to spill onto her cheeks and forced herself to take several long breaths, relieved at Danse’s sudden silence. After successfully recomposing herself and blinking the tears back from falling, she looked up at her friend. “I’m sorry, Danse... I’m sure you hate me right about now.”

He took a quick breath in before answering, the words both tender and sad in a way that thoroughly eviscerated her. “I don’t hate you.”

“What? Why not?” She insisted, watching as he allowed his mask to fall at her question, his eyes mirroring the gentle ache in her own.

_I hate me right now, and you should too._

“If... you truly feel that this contact of yours is your best bet at finding your son... How could I in good conscious force you to sacrifice that chance?” Danse looked away, shaking his head as he stared at the workbench intently. “You made your priorities clear. I would be foolish to expect you to risk Shaun to maintain your ties to the Brotherhood.”

The weight of the statement hit her like a crow bar to the chest and she could feel her anxiety grow at the realization of her betrayal of the organization. “Is Maxson going to charge me with treason for this? Or whatever equivalent thing the Brotherhood has?”

Nora could feel her panic expounding with every passing second, hyper-aware of the position she had just placed Danse in with her question and explicit acknowledgment of her betrayal. Not for the first time, she entertained the thought that it would have been easier to run, to just go off and not tell him what she was planning. But it seemed cruel and heartless to abandoned him without so much as the courtesy of the truth, no matter how much it destroyed whatever sense of companionship that had been building between them.

“Maxson isn’t going to know about this.” He suddenly promised, looking back to her with a look of what she could only define as resignation. “We found Kellogg, who was violent toward us and promptly dealt with. His terminal entries led us to a potential lead in the Glowing Sea, and we went down to the area in order to execute a search for a missing Institute scientist. Unfortunately, our mission was futile as we didn’t find anything.”

The words were analytical and devoid of emotion, sounding almost like one of the painfully dry police reports she’d learned to write so many years before. But the implication behind his carefully crafted lies was astounding, shocking her to her very core.

“Danse, I can’t ask you to do that.” She could feel the tightness in her throat, pinching her words into a gentle plea as she spoke. “You’d be risking your career with the Brotherhood.”

“Would you rather me risk _you_? Your life, or that of your son?” He insisted, drawing his eyebrows together instantly. Nora saw the flash of desperation break across his face as he regarded her with an expression that was so startlingly vulnerable. “I told you, if we go down, we go down together. I’m nothing if I’m not a man of my word.”

“Why?” She demanded, trying to understand how he could just jeopardize his allegiance to the Brotherhood with the mere promise of his word. “You... You don’t owe me shit, you know? Whatever debt you think you owe me, you’ve more than paid it.”

“It’s not about that. I told you...” Danse took a slow breath, allowing himself a moment before continuing. “I can’t go through losing anyone else... not again.”

The vulnerability was heartfelt and forlorn, hanging between them as they locked eyes, a profound sense of understanding between them.

“Yeah... I know the feeling.” She admitted, looking toward the worn concrete floor of her home. A part of her was hopelessly relieved Danse didn’t press her on the matter or demand she realign herself with the Brotherhood, because she knew from the way he was looking at her that she would have agreed to just about anything he asked. There were a million things she wanted to say, a plethora of confessions she wanted to impart, but the words seemed suddenly lost on her.

Before any form of logic could prevent her, she moved forward, pulling him into a firm hug, burying her head against his chest as her arms circled around his waist. Nora could feel him tense against her, hear his sudden, surprised inhale at the sudden contact. Just as she was about to pull away, she felt Danse’s arms move around her, cautiously bringing her closer and resting his cheek against her head.

“We’re going to find your son.” He whispered, leaning into the embrace as he spoke. She could feel herself nodding at the words, allowing herself to fully relax against him. A warm feeling was growing in her chest as she realized that, for whatever reason, she felt immediately at peace in his arms.

“Thank you.” The words were genuine, but it took every molecule of strength she had to pull away from him.

She knew if she allowed herself anything more than a few moments of comfort against Danse’s chest that she would surely act on the less than chaste impulses racing through her mind from their sudden closeness.

Danse quickly cleared his throat, meeting her eyes. “Where are we meeting this contact of yours?”

“I don’t know... It’s Nick’s contact, and I don’t get the impression they’re particularly friendly to the Brotherhood.” She confessed, watching as he shifted slightly in response. It was obvious he didn’t approve of the arrangement, but he clearly thought better of interjection his dissent. “It should only be a few days. I can meet you at Cambridge afterwards.”

“I will admit, I’m not particularly fond of this plan, but I know better than to try and dissuade you from your endeavors.” He answered, watching her with a careful gaze.

“I know, but I have to do this.” She asserted, focusing on the near imperceptible nod from the man next to her. “We’re supposed to leave in the morning, sometime before dawn.”

“You should get some rest.” Danse replied, looking toward the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I should...” She trailed off, running a hand over her face with a faint groan. “So should you.”

“I’ll be alright. You ought to at least try to grab a few hours of sleep on an actual bed.” He paused, watching as she began to roll her eyes. “I would prefer to know for certain that you got some rest on a mattress instead of a decrepit old couch.”

“Hey, I bought that couch.” She objected, narrowing her eyes. “And for the record, I sleep just fine on it.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.” He answered, with a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Just for that, I’m sleeping on the couch.” At Danse’s annoyed glance, Nora allowed a small smile, shrugging as she moved to the furniture in question. She flopped down onto the worn cushions, pulling the tattered blanket tight around her. “Unless you’re going to keep me company, I suggest you take the bed.”

_Why the hell did you just say that? Jesus Christ._

She watched as Danse froze and looked to the ground before nodding slightly.

“I suppose the bed is better suited for someone of my stature.” He answered, and just as Nora was seconds away from considering jumping off the of uppermost stands of Fenway Park in embarrassment, Danse offered a small smirk, continuing. “Besides, I doubt the couch would accommodate us both.”

“Valid point.” She blurted, thoroughly shocked by his cheeky response. Over the past couple weeks it was obvious that she was pushing him, teasing him with small flirtations, just to see how far he'd let her go, but it was the first time he had verbally indicated any sort of consideration of her statements.

“Goodnight, Nora.” He offered, moving to the foot of the staircase.

“Goodnight Danse.” She breathed, closing her eyes as he disappeared above, trying not to imagine the struggle the offending furniture might offer should it try to ‘accommodate’ them both.

*

Of all the places that had come to mind when Nick had told her he ‘knew a guy’ who might have been able to help, she certainly didn’t expect the old detective to lead her to an abandoned church, much less the maze of tunnels that apparently ran underneath it.

“Where the hell are you taking me, Nick?” She grumbled, wrinkling her nose at the persistent stench of death hanging around them in the catacombs.

“Aw, come on doll. Don’t you trust these old instincts?” He joked, raising his pistol as he rounded the corner to her left, her taking the tunnel to their right.

“At the moment? Not particularly...” She complained, nearly vomiting from the smell. “Your friend needs a lesson on hygiene.”

Nick offered a small chuckle, moving to the wall in front of them and turning the surprisingly untarnished bronze dial. “I’ll be sure to mention it.”

The wall groaned open, revealing a much better maintained hallway, lit by a rudimentary line system of light bulbs. At the very least, the new venue didn’t smell like rotting flesh, which Nora was quite thankful for.

It had barely been morning when Nick had the gall to knock on her door, the gentle rap fortunately only rousing her in the wee hours of the morning. But starting off from Diamond City without even saying goodbye to Danse or grabbing a bite of breakfast felt damn near criminal, and the rumbles in her stomach were making her downright homicidal.

“Where the fuck are we going, Nick?” She demanded as she turned into yet another abandoned hallway.

“Don’t worry kiddo. Two more turns and you’ll meet our new friends.” He answered, far too joyful for the early hour.

_Wonderful._

“If your friends are awake at this hour, they’re heathens.” She mumbled, turning the corner as bright lights instantly flashed, completely blinding her as she stumbled back. “What the hell?!”

“Stop right there!” An authoritative voice demanded as Nora struggled against the lights. She was subtly aware that Nick’s familiar whir of processors was absent behind her and tried to blink the bright figures into view.

The same firm voice continued, harsh and cool in the moments she tried to gain her composure. “You went through a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting... Now tell me who the hell you are and what you’re looking for.”

“Yeah sure. No small price for blinding me...” Nora muttered, trying to focus on the figure immediately across from her. “My name’s Nora... What would you say if I told you I had something you wanted?”

“We’re not here to play games.” The woman answered, inspiring a defiance in Nora that should couldn’t reign in.

“Maybe if you put the guns down we could consider having a cordial conversation. I don’t take too kindly to being threatened.” Nora bit, raising her own gun toward the area in front of her as the figures blinked into view.

“Woah, is there a party? And no one invited me?” Another voice answered, a man in a plain white t-shirt coming into view, drawing the attention of the aggressive woman directly across from Nora. “Damn Des, you really wanna point your gun at the Courser killer? Haven’t you heard about this gal? She’s a legend!”

“I suppose our intel person is slipping, _Deacon_...” The woman started with a clear hint of distrust, turning to face the new arrival. “Did she really kill a Courser?”

Nora rolled her eyes, her gun still trained on the woman aiming the over-sized minigun toward her. “She’s right here, her name is Nora, like I said, and yes, I really did.”

“Come on Des, she killed a Courser. There’s no way she’s working with the Institute! And you know Tom has been begging for a new project.” Deacon pleaded, the air of lackadaisical concern blatantly masking a deeper conversation that Nora wasn’t privy to.

“Aw, Desdemona, and here I thought we were friends.” Nick interjected as he approached behind her. “You really want to point your gun as my oldest pal here?”

“Mister Valentine.” The woman stated, raising her hand quickly as the pair behind her relaxed their grip and turned their weapons toward the ground. “Certainly it would have been good manners to advise us of your surprise arrival.”

“Oh? Did Deacon not pass the message along for us?” The detective answered, the hint of sarcasm clear as he watched the blonde woman across from him. “We need a Courser chip decoded, free of charge.”

“Ahh, shit Des, I knew I was forgetting something today.” Deacon added with an exaggerated shrug as he turned back to face Nora. “I have a feel that our new friend here is good company, though. Promise and 'on my good word' and all that jazz.”

There was something familiar about the man that Nora just couldn’t place, the pluck and confidence a clear mask for something he was determined to hide. In spite of his assurances to Desdemona, vowing her innocence, she couldn’t bring herself to trust him and she was relieved to have Nick with her, even if it was just for the time being.

“Very well... We’ll allow you entrance on one condition. We’ll decode the chip for you, but we keep the device.” Desdemona offered, crossing her arms as she stared down at her.

“Sure, whatever. Just give me the code.” Nora answered, looking up at the woman with what she hoped came across as a cold, empty glare.

“Very well... I suppose this is as good an entrance as any.” The other woman offer with a sigh, pointing toward the hallway behind her. “Welcome to the Railroad. Come and meet the crew.”

*

As she moved around the basement of the abandoned church, introducing herself to the multitude of Railroad agents, she was ever aware of a persistent set of eyes on her. Without even spotting the man, Nora knew Deacon was watching her. It wasn’t until she turned the corner of the catacomb that he stepped into view. Even from behind the glasses, she could feel his piercing, calculated stare.

“Ah if it isn’t our newest member! Dez said I had to get your Rail-name to her before we left, so... lay it on me!” Deacon stated, a feigned excitement on his face that she was thoroughly unamused by.

“Like I told your boss, my name is Nora. You can call me whatever you want.” She answered, narrowing her eyes as she watched the man. “Where have I seen you before?”

“Aww.... This face? This face is the freshest thing in the Commonwealth!” He answered with a forced laugh, waving his hand at her question.

_“No._ Who are you? Who are you really? I’ve seen you before and I’m trying figure out exactly where.” She started, cocking her head at the man as an idea dawned on her. “You said you’ve been keeping track of me... So how long have you been following me?”

“Now, Deacon, I don’t recommend you play coy with this one.” Nick muttered from behind her, drawing the other man’s attention.

“Alright, so maybe I’ve been keeping an eye on you. That’s my job, after all. I officially caught up with you in Bunker Hill, when you were with that merc, MacCready.” Deacon confirmed, shrugging as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and quick lit one. “Don’t worry, Charmer, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Charmer?” She asked, frowning at the nickname. “That makes me sound like some sort of stripper.”

“Oh, don’t read anything too deep into it. You need a nickname and you seem to have a way with people. You think I wanted to be called ‘Deacon’?” He let out a quick laugh at the statement as he moved toward the entryway. “What do you say to a crash course about Railroad ops, Charms?”

“Sounds about as fun as ‘mandatory meetings’...” She grumbled, forcing a smile to her face as she watch the master manipulator across from her. “So, let’s get started, I guess.”

“Fantastic. First things first, disguises. How attached are you to your face?” Deacon asked, leading her up the stairs to a nearly hidden entrance.

“Excuse me?” She demanded, frowning as he let out a small laugh, Nick shaking his head behind him.

“Plastic surgery, baby!” Deacon chimed dramatically, pointing to his face. “I like to change my face every few months. Secret agent life, and all that.”

“The last person who had a knife near my face is currently laid out in an abandoned Corvega factory.” Nora answered, cocking her head as she tried to see the man’s expression behind the pair of sunglasses.

“Woah, alright then. Two words: Message received.” He joked, raising his hands in surrender.

“Why do I need a disguise?” She demanded, the horrific thought of some wasteland surgeon cutting into her still burned into her mind.

“Are you kidding? General of the Minutemen? Brotherhood Knight? The sole survivor of Vault 111? You’re something of a celebrity around these parts.” Deacon explained, opening the door quickly and holding it as he waved her through, Nick right behind her.

At the flippant response, she forced herself to refrain from snapping at the term ‘sole survivor’ that blatantly implied her son wasn’t alive.

“Deacon, I don’t think all that is really necessary.” Nick interjected, shooting her an understanding look.

“Aw Nick, you’re no fun.” He complained, flicking the ash from his cigarette with an exaggerated pout as he turned to Nora. “Did you even stop to feed your friend here or did you forget about us humans and our pesky needs again?”

“Ah, I knew there was something I was forgetting.” The detective admitted, offering her an apologetic glance.

Deacon offered her a wide smile at the confirmation. “I’m telling you Charmer, the amount of stake outs I’ve been on with this guy where he’d forget to pack food is basically criminal.”

“I don’t see you hauling around any coolant for me.” Nick retorted, a small smirk teasing at his lips.

“Ah, c’est la vie.” Deacon answered, dismissing the matter with a wave as he nodded in the direction of a set of buildings. “How ‘bout we stop by Goodneighbor. I’ve been meaning to swing by Daisy’s for a bit, anyway.”

Nora wanted to object and just get their mission over with so she could be free of the smarmy bastard’s presence, but the rumble in her stomach destroyed any chance of defiance.

“I... I might be a bit hungry.” She acquiesced, shooting the men an annoyed glance at their amused smiles. “I’ve been told I can be tetchy when I skip breakfast.”

“That’s one word for it.” Nick mumbled under his breath, shaking his head as she turned to glare at him.

“Goodneighbor it is!” Deacon beamed, looking ever the part of an over eager tour guide as he led the way.

*

Nora had to admit, seeing how Deacon was able to manipulate people with his appearance and jovial persona was illuminating. It gave her a small bit of insight into why he clung to the feigned jester personality like his life depended on it. From his explanation of the organization's rocky history and the evidence of the slaughter at the Switchboard, it apparently did.

At the very least, after running a couple missions with him the past few days, she had a newfound respect for the man. He seemed to be able to handle himself in the field and covered her pretty well when they’d run directly into a particularly nasty group of Raiders. Still, she missed Danse’s reassuring presence on every op and it his absence had started to take a mental toll on her. While Deacon was adequate backup, Nora wasn’t able to fully relax or trust him like she did Danse.

But the Railroad never seemed short of new missions and emergencies, which only served to delay her return to Cambridge and that afternoon was no different.

Desdemona had informed them just after lunch that there was some increased suspicious activity at Bunker Hill, jeopardizing several of their synth refugees who were hiding in a bunker beneath the settlement.

“What we need is some sort of diversion.” Glory insisted, glaring at Carrington from across the meeting room table. “Send me, Angel and Vic in to move the packages. I just need you two to cause a scene... Deacon is particularly good at that.”

“There’s not much that constitutes a scene in Bunker Hill, y’know.” Deacon answered, taking a lazy drag from the cigarette between his fingers. “Pretty sure I saw Tony take on two drunks the other day after making some smart-ass comment about their brahmin, and no one so much as looked up from their beers.”

“Surely you can come up with something of interest.” Desdemona urged, shooting Glory a stern look before turning to Nora with a slight smirk. “I’m sure you’re eager to continue your work with the Railroad, right Charmer?”

“Oh yeah, I’m ecstatic. Can’t you tell?” Nora smarted, forcing a sarcastic smile to her face.

“I see Deacon’s proclivity for lying is rubbing off on you.” Desdemona chided, crossing her arms.

“Hey! She came like that, I didn’t do anything.” He objected, nodding to Carrington in the corner. “Don’t let the Doc here tell you otherwise, I am a _phenomenally_ good influence on our new agents.”

Glory cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the group. “Not that I don’t love to debate Deacon’s questionable morals, but can we get back to the matter at hand? My heavies need to be able to slip in and out unnoticed. Can you figure out how to cover us or not?”

“If you want to go unnoticed, maybe you should reconsider your hair and weapon of choice...” Carrington complained, glaring at her from the corner.

“You know for once I gotta agree with Doc-” Deacon started, interrupted by the slam of Desdemona’s hand against the table.

“Can you not act like children for _one_ moment?” She snapped, glaring at the group seated around the table, before her gaze settled back on Nora. “Deacon, you and Charmer are going undercover in Bunker Hill. You’re right that something as blase as a fight won’t garner any real attention... But maybe an attractive young couple might.”

Nora let out a shocked laugh at the idea, only stopping as the other woman continued staring at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Aw Charms, this mug isn’t that bad, is it?” Deacon joked, clearly more amicable to the idea than she was.

“I’d rather take a dip in Swan’s Pond.” She answered, rolling her eyes at his feigned indignation. “No offense.”

“C’mon, it’s not a _bad_ idea. I’ll keep my hands to myself and everything. Your boyfriend has nothing to worry about, promise.” Deacon smarted, his smirk only falling when he noticed Nora’s angry glare. “Oh, are you guys still pretending that’s not happening?”

“Shut the fuck up, Deacon.” She spat, frustration and embarrassment washing over her at his apparent analysis of the feelings she was desperately trying to sort out for herself.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Desdemona demanded, narrowing her eyes at them.

“Nothing.” Nora insisted, still glowering at Deacon next to her who just shrugged in response before turning toward Glory with a wide smile.

“We’ll get you your distraction. I promise, gorgeous. Just gotta work out a few kinks. The Death Bunnies are on the case!”

Glory raised her eyebrow at the claim before rolling her eyes and moving to stand. “Two hours and we’re moving the packages. Figure something out before then, alright?”

“Have I ever lied to you, G?” Deacon asked, placing his hand dramatically on his chest with a pout.

“Without a doubt.” Glory muttered, shooting Desdemona a brief look before leaving the room.

Carrington took her sudden departure as his opportunity to contribute. “Deacon’s a lot of things, but I have to admit he knows how to work a con. If he says it’s a good idea, then there’s a chance it might actually work.”

_What a glowing review..._

“I didn’t realize pimping myself out was part of my Railroad duties.” Nora stated wryly, ignoring Deacon’s amused expression as he bit out a chuckle and did a poor job of covering it with a cough.

It didn’t exactly inspire her confidence in the idea and she thought of the other synth she’d help get to safety, H2. She couldn’t just abandoned the refugees, but the idea seemed especially ridiculous, to say the least.

Desdemona looked down at her, picking up the pack of cigarettes on the table. “We’re not asking you to do anything inappropriate. The Railroad has a strict policy against fraternization.”

“All I’m suggesting is we put you in a dress and add a little makeup and let your rockin’ bod do the rest.” Deacon explained, turning to her with a small smile. “You’d just be one big beautiful distraction for Glory and her heavies, and I’d be your arm candy.”

“That is by far one of the weirdest things you’ve ever said, Deacon.” Carrington grumbled, shooting Nora an apologetic glance.

“I... Would not have worded it _quite_ like that, but he’s right... You do draw a certain level of attention as it is.” Desdemona added, taking a long drag from the cigarette.

Nora let out a small groan, mortified by the thought. She hated the idea with a passion, but they were running out of time to think of anything better. “Fine... But if anyone gropes me, I’m kicking all of your asses. And Deacon?”

“Yeah Charms?”

“If you ever make a comment about my body again, _your_ body will never be found.” She warned, moving to stand. From across the table, she noticed Desdemona and Carrington’s matching smirks at the threat, and looked back to Deacon who wore a shit-eating grin.

“Sure thing, boss.” He answered, cocking his head as he watched her annoyed glare. There was something self-assured and congratulatory in his expression that needled at her mind, as if he had won some sort of unspoken game between them.

“You knew I’d agree to the idea just to shut you up, didn’t you?” Nora accused, suddenly realizing she’d played right into his plan.

“What can I say? Intel _is_ my job.” Deacon shrugged at the words, looking over to the doorway. “You find out what motivates people and you know where you stand.”

Squashing her irritation at being manipulated, Nora looked to Deacon was a forced smile. “I don’t suppose you have any thing in my size in your costume closet.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He answered, standing with a flourish and nodding to the door. “You know I was undercover as a girl for a few months, so you could say I collected a few pieces during that time.”

*

If she had thought the idea was ridiculous back at HQ, her skepticism was only magnified as they made their way to Bunker Hill. Tinker Tom had been too distracted working on cracking the encoding on the Courser chip to explain the merits of the ‘ballistic weave’ he’d worked into the burgundy dress months prior.

Nora was fairly certain that Deacon was full of shit when he maintained the fabric’s durability, claiming he was wearing the dress when he was shot with a shotgun gun at point-blank range and was ‘no worse for wear’. At least Glory’s heeled boots were fairly comfortable, and they allowed her stash a few blades inside.

“I look like a hooker.” She stated finally, tugging at the cuff of the boot against her knee.

“Sure, but you look like one of those fancy hookers. Like the type you’d pay to accompany someone to their ex’s wedding.” Deacon answered, stifling a laugh at her discomfort.

“An escort.” She offered with a small chuckle. “This is one of the weirdest things I’ve ever been roped into doing.”

“Ah but Scarlett, my dear, you look amazing tonight.” He joked, adopting a surprisingly accurate southerner accent.

“Well, I’ll be Johnny, Mama was right when she said you were nothing but trouble.” She quipped, mirroring the southern drawl with ease.

“Yeah, you got it Charmer! I knew I liked you. Not many people can fall into character so easily.” Deacon adjusted the hem of his shirt, trying and failing to smooth the rumpled fabric.

“Call it years of practice.” Nora thought back to the various personas she’d have to adopt when interviewing people, playing to their apparent beliefs, even if she found their activities heinous and repulsive.

“I’m just saying, you, me, and Valentine would make a hell of a detective squad. Picture this,” He offered a small smile, extending his hand toward the sky with a flourish. “Two former Vault dwellers and one synthetic detective, out to bring justice across the Commonwealth.”

“You’re not a Vault dweller, D.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at the blatant lie as Bunker Hill came into view across the bridge. “I never actually came here, you know.”

“I know.” Deacon answered with confidence and Nora shot him an exasperated glance before looking back toward the monument.

“I meant before the Vault, specifically. You already knew about the last time I tried to visit.” She accused, still uncomfortable with the fact that he had been following her for the past couple months.

“Yeah. You’re welcome for starting that fight, by the way. The Gunners had just spotted your friend and didn’t look too thrilled about seeing him.” He stated, shooting her a quick look, as if checking if she believed him.

“Oh yeah? You took on the whole Gunner squad all by yourself, did you?” Nora asked, raising her eyebrow in question.

He smirked, apparently pleased by her disbelief. “Something like that.”

“My hero.” She answered sarcastically, switching back into her undercover persona as the guards outside the entrance came into view. “Why Johnny? Are you quite certain we can find a decent drink in there? When you said you were taking me out for the night, I surely thought you meant dancing.”

“Oh Scarlett, my darlin’ I promise to make your night.” He replied, falling into their cover in an instant as he interlocked their arms together in a quaint old-world motion that she was surprised he had any knowledge of.

“Oh, you hush.” She warned, trying to discretely scan the settlement as they climbed the stairs and entered over the thresh hold.

Deacon confidently lead them to the marketplace and nodded to the bar in the corner. “Come now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t at least buy you a drink?”

Nora was suddenly aware of several sets of eyes on them as they approached the bar area. They must have been a sight to see, after all, far more dolled up than anyone outside Goodneighbor or Diamond City had any right to be, and just as Deacon had predicted, the attention of the marketplace was completely focused on them.

“What’ll it be tonight, my love?” He asked, locking eyes with the bartender quickly before turning back toward her.

“Sweet southern gal like me? I’ll take a whiskey, neat.” She purred, embracing the playful personality of what she faintly remembered the big Hollywood starlets emulating back in her day.

“Of course. Anything for you, Scarlett.” Deacon answered, sliding a pile of bottlecaps across the counter and raising two fingers to the man across from him. Nora was hyper-aware of the stares on her back as they spoke, the bartender and the elderly gentlemen across the marketplace the only two who appeared completely disinterested in their exchange.

_They’re Railroad agents._

The realization was a welcome one, and she was relieved to know it wasn’t just her and Deacon working the op topside, should things go sideways, as it were. It never hurt to have more guns on their side, if the need arose.

The man behind the bar slid the short glasses toward them, only briefly meeting her eyes with a knowing glance before quickly turning to speak with another customer.

Deacon took the glass, bringing it to his mouth fluidly as he looked back at her and taking a sip of the amber liquid. She followed suit, mirroring his own conservative drink of the booze, given the gravity of their mission. Desdemona would be furious if they blew their cover by imbibing more than absolutely necessary.

“Johnny, tell me, how did you get to be such a gentleman?” She started, watching as Deacon pulled a pack of smokes out of his pocket, removing a single cigarette with an amused smirk.

“Why, I was raised with manners. I know how to treat a lady.” He answered, lighting the cigarette and taking a full, confident drag. It was so starkly different from his typical languid puffs and Nora found herself impressed with how completely he could commit to a role.

“I suppose you do. Might have to hold you to that.” The flirtation felt awkward and forced, but she tried not to over think it, tried to imagine it wasn’t Deacon standing across from her on their fake date. The thought allowed her to alleviate her distress a bit, even if the idea of who exactly she’d rather be standing in his place inspired a painful ache in her chest.

He paused, as if sensing her discomfort, before answering. “Oh don’t you worry, beautiful. I’ll make sure you’re treated right.”

Nora tried to pretend it was Danse standing next to her and she could feel herself relax into a genuine, affectionate smile. “I look forward to it.”

Deacon raised his eyebrow over the lens of his sunglasses, before turning to scan the area behind her. The change in his posture was almost imperceptible, so carefully repressed and controlled that she almost missed it all together.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, causing Nora to look up and follow his gaze, her heart immediately racing in her chest at the familiar orange fabric. “Change of plans, Charmer.”

Deacon’s faint whisper was almost completely drowned out by the echo of her pulse in her ears, because it was just her fucking luck that not only was there a Brotherhood soldier roaming around Bunker Hill right when they were trying to move multiple packages, but that the Brotherhood soldier in question was _Danse_.

_Now how in the fresh fuck am I going to explain this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have artwork in the process for this exact scene soooo uhhh... 
> 
> *laughs uncomfortably*


	32. I'm the One You're Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I see you looking 'round the corner  
> Come on inside, and pull up a chair  
> No need to feel like a stranger  
> 'Cause we're all a little strange in here'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'm done silently editing the first 17 chapters - for now. Trying to transpose them over to FF. Also trying to remember how FF works after 8 years off the site so.
> 
> *quietly watches for a week as the word count randomly changes*

It had been three days since Danse had last seen Nora. Three days since she had ran off with Nick to meet the detective’s illustrious ‘contact’ who claimed to have some sort of knowledge about decoding Courser chips. The entire situation was less than ideal, but he knew better than to voice his concerns. It seemed unlikely that there would be any sort of organization with the resources or capabilities to decode such an advanced piece of technology, but the look she had regarded him with that night had gutted him in a way he couldn’t quite articulate.

She had said it would only be a few days until she’d return to Cambridge, but three days had come and gone without so much as a single indication that she was even alive. Danse could only sit and stew, imagining the variety of assailants she might have encountered ambling across the Commonwealth with the synth. It had been the longest three days of his life, even longer than when Cutler’s squad had lost contact with the Scribes at the Citadel, and he was half out of his mind with worry.

He didn’t know what had transpired between them the last few nights before she had left with Nick, but it felt like something between them had certainly changed. That much was evident from the nagging sensation he felt burning a hole in his stomach, suddenly feeling lost and anxious without her nearby. It was thoroughly foreign to him, but he knew that he would give just about anything to see Nora’s characteristic smile or hear her complain about some sort of convenience the Commonwealth no longer accommodated.

Even more irritating was the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to focus on his duties for longer than a few minutes before his mind wandered back to her, no matter how hard he tried. Danse had passed along a message to Maxson regarding their delay, claiming Nora had wished to be with friends for the holiday and would be returning to duty by the end of the week. It gave them ample time to make their way aboard the Prydwen, but the thought of what would happen if they extended their week time frame was an unwelcome one.

He knew it should have bothered him more, that he was able to lie to his superior officer with such ease, but he couldn’t bring himself to make it a priority when Nora was still missing. Hell, in addition to crafting a false mission briefing, he had gone so far to return her playful flirtation the night before she left, crossing numerous lines that had begun to blend and fade with every passing day by her side.

It wasn’t the first time he’d gone against procedure, and fortunately Maxson had excused his previous insubordination, considering the circumstance of Cutler’s disappearance. But he didn’t get the sense his clear violation of policy would be tolerated in Nora’s case, particularly considering her previously documented lack of adherence to convention.

Danse had been able to entirely repair the power armor of the half dozen soldiers stationed at the Brotherhood’s Cambridge base, save for his own missing helmet, and it was his search for such armor that led him to Bunker Hill that evening. A passing trader had claimed a crew of Raiders had swept through the area, dropping off a still mostly-functional set of T-51 armor with one of the caravans. The particular model was typically outfitted with an adjustable visor on the helmet like he preferred, finding the ability to ability to flip it open tactically advantageous should the crystal optics crack, and he had started toward the settlement immediately.

Of all the surprising things he’d expected to see in the unscrupulous town, Nora had not been one of them. Certainly not done up like she was, in a way that he could only describe as seductive and radiant. He could feel his heart race, echoing in his ears at the very sight of her. The burgundy dress she was donning clung to her figure in a way that reminded him of a pre-war billboard, her hair styled in loose waves, and a bright red pigment painted on her lips.

_Beautiful... She looks absolutely stunning._

Any of his initial shock at her appearance was replaced by anger and something else much more akin to hurt, as he watched the man standing far closer to her than was decent lean forward to whisper something to her. In an instant, the gentle smile fell from her face as she turned in Danse’s direction, spotting him immediately.

He met her gaze immediately, watching as her previous facade of easy confidence dropped from her face, her eyes going wide as she noticed him across the way.

Before Danse had time to register or interpret her expression, the mysterious man with her threw a glass to the ground, causing a multitude of glistening shards to scatter across the concrete ground of the bar.

“Scarlett, don’t tell me it’s true! You been sneaking around on me?” The man demanded, drawing Nora’s attention back to him at the sudden outburst.

Almost as if being struck, she flinched, falling back into a cold, cruel countenance that Danse had never seen before. Nora grabbed a short tumbler full of amber liquid, taking a full swig before turning back to her companion.

“Oh Johnny, can you blame me? I heard you been slipping ‘round with Marcia.” She complained, her voice marked by an accent Danse didn’t recognize as she followed along with the other man’s rouse. “I knew you were cheatin’ from the moment you stopped taking me dancing!”

“I knew you were cheatin’ the day my brother ratted you out! You’re nothing but a cheap thrill, darlin’.” The mysterious man hit the bar with his fist as he spat out the words, and Danse shot forward instantly at the aggressive movement. Regardless of any relationship between her and her apparent date, he wouldn’t tolerate any sort of violence toward his knight.

“Go find Marcia, you dog!” Nora cried, immediately throwing the remainder of her drink in the man’s face.

“I plan on it!” He snapped, without bothering to take of his sunglasses as he turned, storming off in the opposite direction.

Danse frowned, still quickly walking toward the exchange, fully aware of the onlooker’s attention redirected toward him as he approached the bar. It was clear they had been acting out some sort role play, a realization that both confounded and frustrated him. Nora looked up at him with a nauseatingly feigned saccharine smile.

“Oh my, it looks like I have a handsome soldier coming to my rescue.” She purred, extending her hand to him. “The name’s Scarlett. Don’t let that unpleasantness ruin our night, baby.”

Danse ignored the flirtation completely, irritated at the apparent ‘Scarlett’ persona Nora was maintaining, even when speaking with him. He gently grasped her wrist, guiding her to a less populated area of the market without a word, still cognizant of the curious gazes on their retreating figures. Once he guided them away from a majority of prying eyes, he dropped her wrist, turning to her immediately.

As soon as he met her stare, her carefully controlled mask dropped, meeting his gaze with a look somewhere between shame and relief.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here, Nora?” He demanded, fighting to keep his tone even from the uncertainty and anger gnawing at his stomach. It was almost an ache in his chest, thinking about her running around the dangerous town with some strange man, especially given that she was hanging out in a shady bar with less than adequate protection.

“Fuck!” She cursed, running a slow hand over her face as she looked toward the ground. “It’s not what it looks like, whatever the fuck you think it looks like, it’s not.”

“Then enlighten me.” He stated coldly, only wavering slightly when Nora looked up at him with a small sigh.

“I can’t, not here...” She urged, looking around the marketplace discreetly before her perceptive gaze landed back on him.

“I don’t think that an explanation is too much to ask here.” Danse gritted, feeling his anger surge at the secrecy. After everything they had been through, he hadn’t expected her to still distrust him. “Have I not proven to you time and time again that you can entrust me with the truth?”

“Of course you have Danse...” Her gentle but reassuring tone mitigated his irritation greatly as she scanned his face, looking suddenly guilty. “I got myself wrapped up in this op, trying to help some people out of a bad situation.”

“That is... not surprising.” He admitted, scanning the marketplace for any unwelcome eavesdroppers. Nora shot him an annoyed expression, cocking her head as she pursed her lips.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker and agree to helping anyone and everyone. I know this.” She groaned, crossing her arms in front her waist stubbornly, drawing his attention back to her attire.

“What sort of mission necessitates...” Danse trailed off, not sure how to bring up the fact that the dress she was wearing was fully displaying her attributes in a way that he was hopelessly trying not to notice.

Thankfully, she seemed to follow his train of thought, taking full responsibility of initiating that particular conversation. “I was told I needed to be distracting.”

_Mission accomplished._

“By being... dressed in such a manner?” He forced out, mentally berating himself for how awkward the words sounded. At the statement, Nora froze, looking down suddenly at the dress and straightening the tight fabric against her hips.

“It’s mean, it’s been a minute since I wore a dress but... I didn’t think it looked _that_ bad.” She mumbled, letting out an uncomfortable laugh at her own words. Danse’s eyes went wide, realizing his comment had come across the completely wrong way.

“That’s not what I meant, Nora.” He rushed, clearing his throat as he tried to find the right words to express all the compliments and multitude of adjectives darting around his mind. “I only meant. It’s good. You look... nice.”

_Breathtaking. Glowing. Beautiful._ _Radiant._

Nora looked up at him, a bright blush creeping into her cheeks in an instant, offering a shy smile that was a stark contrast from her normal cocksure smirk. “You think so?”

_By Atom, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life._

“Hey, Charmer!” The mysterious man suddenly called, strolling into view with a self-assured grin and turning to Danse quickly. Despite the fact that he had changed his outfit and apparently removed a wig, his bald head glistening in the ambient flicker of the nearby lanterns, the cocky smile was recognizably the same. “Hey man! Nice to finally meet you. What should I call you? Soldier boy? Tin can man? Oh, I got it! RoboCop.”

“Deacon.” Nora warned, narrowing her eyes at the man, her nervous smile disappearing without a trace. “Do you mind?”

“Mind? I mean, you _did_ ruin my favorite pair of shades, but I figure we’re even after I talked you into wearing that dress.” Deacon joked, causing another swell of irritation in Danse as he watched the exchange, particularly at the mention that the former had convinced her to wear the attire in question.

Though, he was relieved to see that in spite of whatever familiarity they’d had during their rouse they enacted earlier, the same level of comfort was seemingly gone. Nora by all accounts appeared wary of the other man, regarding him with a look of irritation that seemed to scream ‘Fuck off’ in every language.

“I’m gutted.” She stated dryly, angling herself in front of Danse in a near protective movement.

“Ah, no worries. Live and let live, as they say. Besides, we got the parcel we came for.” Deacon paused for a heavy second, staring directly at Nora as she offered a slight nod, appearing to understand the man’s statement. The man resumed his forced jolly demeanor, wagging his eyebrows over his glasses as he pointed at her. “Ready to change out of that dress?”

“Deacon, I swear to fuck-” She groaned, shooting him a warning glare at the suggestive comment.

“Aw, I didn’t mean it like that. Not that you don’t look like a knock out, you do, but-” Deacon defended with a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“I think that’s enough.” Danse interjected, his voice stern and only barely masking his displeasure at the exchange.

Deacon raised his hands in surrender, a small smirk on his lips as he turned toward Danse. “Woah now, big guy. Isn’t there a fire hydrant around here somewhere for you?”

“Deacon.” Nora warned, her eyes cold and piercing as she regarded him.

“Charmer... I only meant that Tinker has a present for you. You know, back at HQ.”

In an instant, she tensed, her eyes dropping their defensive guard, turning turn Deacon with a look of hope and enthusiasm. “You mean it?”

“Would I ever lie to you?” He defended, feigning offense as he adjusted his sunglasses.

“Oh, by the way, the bartender’s looking for you too, something about settling your tab.

“What?” She asked, bringing her eyebrows together in confusion as Danse silently watched the exchange.

“Yeah, you better pay the man. I think he might have mentioned something about having a nice bright blue vault suit he’d be willing to trade.” Deacon offered, shrugging at the words that only he and Nora appeared to understand. Danse hated the apparent code they shared, primarily because he was thoroughly unaware of what deeper meaning their exchange masked. “Make your way back when you can, Charms.” 

Nora nodded absentmindedly, offering a small wave as Deacon turned behind a vendor stall and slipped from view. At the man’s disappearance, she appeared to deflate, turning toward Danse was a faint, worried smile.

“What is it?” He urged, disturbed by all the subterfuge and double entendres almost as much as her sudden anxiety.

“They... They decoded the chip.” She whispered, her eyes wet and distant as a sad laugh escaped her mouth. The sound made his chest feel tight, barely registering her divulgence, as he was more concerned with her apparent distress. Nora turned to meet his eyes suddenly, her face worried and vulnerable. “Danse, I have a way into the Institute.”

*

The words almost seemed fake, like someone else had uttered the very phrase she both hoped and dreaded. Because a way into the Institute meant she had a chance to find Shaun, but it just as equally represented the very real probability that she would be killed immediately upon entry.

Nora could feel a hysterical laugh tickle at her throat, begging her to be free as she tried to wrap her mind around the world-altering change of events. The announcement made her feel like there were two realities pulling at her, her life before the war and her there life in the wasteland. There had been times where she could wholly forget her origin, how she came to stumble straight into the cruel new world around her. Moments where she had been so foolhardy to consider fanciful ideas of romance or happiness, completely neglecting her primary responsibility to her son.

She felt like a traitor and a failure, disappointing Nate’s memory every step of the way as she made her way across the Commonwealth.

The hysterical laughter broke free as she tried to process the enormity of the situation, quickly turning to sobs as she thought about her son, imprisoned and alone while she gallivanted across post-apocalyptic Boston on a whim. She had done more in the last few months to help random strangers than her her own flesh and blood, content to take her time along the way. It was horrifyingly shameful, and she thought that maybe she didn’t even deserve Shaun, didn’t deserve to be a mother.

She had already lost one child and Shaun _was_ kidnapped right in front of her, she figured that maybe it was the universe’s way of telling her to stop trying her hand at motherhood.

Firm hands grasped her shoulders, bringing her chaotic thoughts back into reality with a start. Nora blinked, trying to comprehend the scene around her. As she looked up, meeting Danse’s worried gaze, she relaxed in an instant, shaking her head as she tried to recompose herself with several long breaths.

“Nora... Are you alright?” He asked, his hands moving to grasp her upper arms as he straightened slightly, briefly scanning behind the area behind her.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, her voice soft and empty. The pained response echoed against her own ears, causing a sudden spurt of anger to explode inside her. It was shameful to stand around feeling pathetic when her best chance at bringing her son home had just revealed itself.

“That’s... understandable.” Danse offered, gently squeezing her arms in a gesture of reassurance as he watched her.

“I was a shit mother.” She blurted, closing her eyes at the confession and hating herself for admitting the fact out loud. With an angry sigh, she regarded the floor, staring at the worn cobblestones of the settlement with a profound sense of desolation.

“That surely can’t be true.” He offered, bringing his hand to her cheek and raising her head too meet her eyes. “Nora. You’ve been more successful in locating the Institute in a few months than the Brotherhood has been able to do in over twenty years.”

The intimate gesture allowed her to relax against the welcomed, calloused palm. She watched him with a sudden anxiety at the contact, her guilt swirling angrily and blending with her affection for him, leaving her only more confused. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” The words were almost a whisper, an unspoken promise as she brought her hand to grasp his wrist, leaning further into the contact as he continued. “I assure you, societal niceties are not my strong suit, and I mean what I say with absolute certainty. I have no doubts that you’re an outstanding mother. You’ve fought your way across the Commonwealth to find any chance at locating Shaun, and you _found_ it. Not many people would or could do that... This way in, it’s a good thing.”

Nora nodded, his words soothing her nerves and allowing her the perspective to realign her panic with her reality. Forcing a tense smile to her face, she nodded, suddenly looking away from the entrancing warmth of Danse’s eyes.

“Thank you... You’re right, this is a good thing.” She answered, her voice suddenly closer to that of a composed soldier instead of a concerned mother, only wavering slightly as she felt Danse drop his hand back to his side, missing the comfort with all of her soul.

“You stated that ‘they’ decoded the chip... Who precisely is this ‘they’ you speak of?” He asked with a frown as he glanced back to where Deacon had disappeared moments prior.

Nora felt her breath suddenly catch at the question, looking away abruptly. She knew she would have to broach the topic of the Railroad with him at some point, but she certainly hadn’t expected it to be only a few days after discovering the strange renegade group herself.

“You’re not going to like it.” She mumbled, trying hopelessly to straighten the fabric of the dress.

“As long as they truly plan to bring you closer to reuniting with your son, I can guarantee cordiality.” He promised, a softness in his tone that she had come to crave.

“I... I’m working with the Railroad.” She admitted, fully anticipating his derisive response.

“You _what?_ ” He demanded, eyes going wide in shock.

“Danse-”

“They are classified as official enemies of the Brotherhood.” He ordered, his gaze turning cold and composed at the analysis.

“Danse.” She warned, hardening her gaze at his sudden outburst. “They are the _only_ people with any experience decoding Courser chips. The only ones.”

Danse sighed angrily, looking toward the ground in an instant. “I suppose... Given the peculiarities of your situation, it is understandable that you would be in contact with them.”

Nora ran her hand through her hair, suddenly angry at her lack of hair ties to bring it back out of her face. She had known that he wouldn’t be especially thrilled at her work with the Railroad, but she desperately needed the information on the chip. At least he hadn’t dragged her straight to Maxson to expose her treachery, given her betrayal on more levels than one.

“Exactly... But we have the code now, I guess.” She let out a slow breath, attempting to slow her racing pulse and refocus on her next steps. “So we can get that device built.”

“I see...” Danse took a long breath, clearly trying to stifle his irritation at the situation before continuing. “Did you also, perchance, relinquish the holotape with the device specifications to the Railroad?”

She felt her stomach drop at the question, cursing herself for having landed herself in _that_ particular conversation. “No.”

“No?”

“No...” Nora looked up, furious at the perceptive gaze burning a hole into her own. With a groan, she decided that there was no use continuing to hide it from him. _We’re in this together, after all, right?_ “I gave the holotape to Nick.”

Danse closed his eyes, his fists clenching by his sides at her confession. She could feel the mounting anxiety building once more, anticipating the outburst that would surely come. Much to her surprise, several long moments passed without any word from him and she looked back at him.

As their eyes met, Danse let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. “I suppose you have a reason why you would entrust such sensitive information to that... to him.”

She raised her eyebrow at his correction, ignoring the way he winced as he referred to Nick as him.

_It’s a start. We can’t undo decades of brainwashing in one week._

“Nick is bringing the holotape to Preston. The Minutemen are the only ones with access the information.” She explained, relieved to see Danse relax slightly at her words.

He nodded quietly, appearing introspective as he considered her words. “While I think the Brotherhood is your best bet at building any sort of advanced technology, I will admit the Minutemen seem fairly... amicable.”

“Yeah. I hear their leader is really turning things around.” Nora stated dryly, ignoring the fact that her allegiance and position with the militia was yet another thing she was hiding from him.

“Very well. I suppose we should head out to retrieve this code from your... friends.” Danse grumbled with a frown.

“Danse. I can’t ask you to do that.” She urged, hating herself for once again putting him in a position that tested his loyalty to both herself and the Brotherhood. “Knowing I’m working with them is one thing, but to walk straight into their headquarters yourself? There’s no plausible deniability the second you cross that line.”

“I believe the metaphorical line was crossed long ago, Nora.” He answered, drawing his eyebrows together.

“Yeah... I guess it was.” She confessed, shaking her head and looking toward the stars over head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you anchored yourself to me and I keep letting you down.”

The words burned as she spoke, shooting shame and anger painfully down her throat as she tried to focus on what she was fairly certain, with her limited astrological knowledge, was Orion’s belt shining bright the night sky. If she focused on counting the stars, she could keep herself from slipping too deep in her own self pity.

“You’re not...” Danse started, letting out a quick huff of breath as he elaborated. “I knew from the second you told me about your son back in Cambridge. I know Shaun was and is your priority. I... I did not ‘anchor’ myself to you, as you say, because of any misconceptions about your loyalty to the Brotherhood. I’m here because I believe in your motives.”

Nora let out a bitter laugh, a knot welling in her throat at the promise of his loyalty. “I don’t know what good I did in the world to have you in my corner, but I’m glad I do.”

She forced her gaze from the sky, her heart beating against her chest as he watched his tender expression.

It was clear he was thinking, his face pulled together in thought. But before he could say anything, she cleared her throat, pointing the bar area in the distance. “How about I get changed and we can head on our way to pick up that code?”

Almost like a switch was flipped, Danse nodded, his expression suddenly stoic. “Affirmative. Let’s move out.”

*

Danse felt like he was finally able to breath when he saw that Nora had changed back into the customary vault suit, adorned with her typical armor. As much as he found the dress she had worn to be thoroughly enamoring, it inspired some of the less than professional thoughts he’d be having as of late regarding her.

It was also a relief to find that she was seemingly protected from whatever unsavory hostilities lurked in and around the shady settlement. He knew he should not have agreed to follow along with her plan, every fiber of his training and loyalty to the Brotherhood screaming at him to turn tail and run directly to Elder Maxson. But he knew that wasn’t something he could do. He would destroy himself before he allowed any harm to come to her, and Maxson’s wrath wasn’t something he could impart on her.

Nora looked over to him nervously, her fingers flinching as she held Righteous at the ready, scanning the horizon briefly. For whatever reason, it seemed she was afraid. Either for herself or for him, he wasn’t sure, but it was becoming near gut wrenching to see her anxious expression.

“Nora.”

She looked at him, sighing as she scanned his face, appearing to interpret his thoughts in an instant. “I’m just worried about how they’re going to respond when they see you’re with me.”

He paused only momentarily before nodding. “If you think I would hinder you in any way-”

“No.” She ordered, her face drawn down in an irritated expression. “I want you there. I just... I don’t want you to get hurt. You know, should they take offense to your presence.”

Danse could feel a warmth creep to the back of his neck at her words. It was certainly a surprise that Nora was more concerned with him becoming an enemy of the Railroad or his safety being jeopardized, than the likelihood of the organization refusing to cooperate or release the code given his presence. Despite everything, Nora seemed hell bent on protecting him without so much as a thought to how it could impact her.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m certain there will be no issue.”

_As in, not certain in any sense of the word._

She shot him a look of skepticism before nodding to the weathered door of the church just ahead of them. “Let’s find out... But, I’m taking the lead.”

He thought about objecting, but the looked Nora was giving him heeded any chance of debate. “Understood.”

Nora nodded, pushing into the church with a start, raising her rifle as she scanned the decrepit lobby of the rotunda. Fortunately, there seemed to be a blessed absence of hostilities in the building. She quickly made her way to the pile of ruble under the stairs, pushing back the large wood panel and revealing the dingy hallway behind.

They made their way through the dusty tunnels, the smell of standing water and rotting ghoulified flesh hanging in the air. “The smell is quite revolting.” He mumbled, trying not to visibly flinch from the olfactory assault.

“That’s an understatement.” Nora answered dryly, raising her hand to stop him from proceeding further down the tunnel system. “I need you to hang back for ten seconds, okay?”

“Affirmative.”She offered him a slight smile at his answer, a hint of amusement in her eye as she turned toward the archway in the distance.

“Brace yourself for bright lights.” She stated before taking off around the corner in a flash.

As warned, a bright glow filled the catacombs, casting angry shadows along the walls as he heard Nora curse in the next room.

“Fuck, Des! It’s just me. Jesus, I know it’s the end of the world but seriously, you need to learn some manners.” She complained, letting out a smile laugh at her own sarcastic statement. “Anyways, I hope you’ll extend a decent amount of courtesy to my partner here, he’s the better half of this duo.”

Danse could feel the blood drain from his face at her choice of terminology. Despite Nora’s joking tone, there was something genuine in her words. He wondered, not for the first time, if it was simply a miscommunication between her culture from before the war and that of the wasteland.

Without another thought, he started forward slowly, trying to listen for any further discourse regarding his arrival before appearing next to her. The other woman’s eyes went wide as she gawked at him, turning her attention to Nora in a flash.

“What the hell is going on here Charmer?” She demanded, bristling with anger as she watched them, her nostrils flaring in an instant.

“Desdemona. I promise you, Danse here is on our side.” Nora demanded, her voice cold and hard as she stared at the other woman.

“I highly doubt anyone from the Brotherhood would align themselves with us.” Desdemona admonished, blatant disapproval in her tone as she scanned Danse’s face in an instant. “Would you really risk your life for this... ruffian?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.” The answer was quick and firm, allowing no room for negotiation as she stared across the room. Danse could feel a sense of warmth in his chest at her steadfast assurance.

“Then he’s here on your head.” Desdemona warned with a sigh, shaking her head in anger as she turned to retreat back into the tunnel behind her. Nora rolled her eyes as the woman disappeared, turning toward him with a terse smile.

“That went well.” She commented sardonically, nudging him with her elbow as she nodded toward the tunnel. “Come on, let get the code and then blow this popsicle stand.”

“What?” He demanded, frowning at the strange statement.

Nora let out a dejected sigh, waving his question away. “Doesn’t matter. Let's get the code then head toward Sanctuary.”

“That does seem wise.” He agreed stoically, following behind her as she entered the base of the very organization Maxson had dispensed numerous recon teams to try and locate. It was almost humorous, in an ironic sort of miserable way. He had every piece of corroborating evidence to bring the downfall of one of the organizations the Brotherhood stood in direct opposition of, but he knew he couldn’t ever bring himself to divulge their presence. Especially not when she had apparently infiltrated their ranks with ease.

_You are so far down the rabbit hole now, Paladin._

Nora headed directly to where a nervous looking young man was typing away aggressively at a terminal, muttering to himself erratically. As they approached the man looked up, practically bouncing as he noticed them.

“Oh man Charmer, you’re going to be so psyched! Did Deek tell you? I did it! I actually got it cracked!”

“I heard, that’s great Tom.” Nora offered the man a warm smile that he quickly returned.

“Deacon said you had to fight off _five_ Institute Coursers just to get the packages our safelt, is that true?” Tom demanded, his eyes going wide as he noticed Danse standing behind her. “Oh shit! Who’s your friend?”

She let out a quick laugh, shaking her head at the claims. “Is that what he told you? What did I tell you about listening to Deacon?”

“Not to...” He admitted, eyes darting rapidly between them as he spoke.

Despite the extreme discomfort Danse felt at being inside the Railroad’s base, it was at least amusing to see the friendly banter Nora seemed to garner so easily with the eccentric young man. It was also more than a little gratifying to hear her state her apparent distrust toward Deacon, given how much Danse had found he detested the other man on sight alone, much less when he opened his mouth.

She offered him a raised eyebrow, as if sensing his train of thought before pointing to him with a smirk. “Tom, this is Danse. He’s on our side.”

Tom narrowed his eyes, scanning the bright orange fabric of Danse’s uniform with a frown. “We should give him the serum... Not only do we gotta worry about the Institute’s robots, who knows what sort of nanobots the Brotherhood slipped him. I bet he’s been eating their food.”

“Excuse me?” Danse interjected, watching as Nora put her hands on her hips with a sigh. He wondered what exactly was in the alleged serum, given the other man’s apparent delusions about the 'extra' ingredients of the Brotherhood of Steel’s rations.

“Tom, no.” She warned.

“Come on Charmer! You know he’s been eating their food-”

“ _No_.” She scolded, stepping closer to the man and shaking her head. “I’m not letting you give Danse your serum, that shit is poison.”

“What does this serum contain that is so caustic?” Danse interrupted, frowning as Tom looked over to him with a giddy smile.

“Oh man, this is gonna clean you right out! Any nasties you got floating around your blood’ll be as good as gone.” Tom explained, turning to rummage through one of the horribly disorganized drawers of his desk. Nora immediately slid over to the eager young man’s side, grabbing his forearm in an instant.

“I said no.” She insisted, shooting Danse an irritated look at his unintentional word that had apparently encouraged the other man. “There’s battery acid in Tom’s serum. You really want to try it?”

“Negative.” He answered with a frown, watching as Tom stopped searching the drawer at his answer. “I was simply curious as to why you were so adverse to it.”

“Aw man. No one is willing to try it.” Tom complained, closing the drawer dejectedly.

“Not even Deacon?” Nora asked, trying and failing to conceal her amused smile.

“Deacon said he couldn’t do it because he was a time traveler and his blood was different than ours.” He mumbled dejectedly as he looked at Danse a pout before turning back to the desk to grab a holotape from the corner.

“Of course he did.” She mumbled, shaking her head. “Where the hell did that lying fuck run off to?”

“Aw darling, you’re breaking my heart here.” Deacon answered, appearing to step out from behind the pillar where he had apparently been listening. Danse could feel himself bristle at the pet name, noting Nora’s own lack of amusement at the terminology, given the dramatic roll of her eyes as she turned toward the man.

“Deacon, you better be talking to Tinker.” She jested, crossing her arms.

“Of course I am. Have you seen this guy? Absolutely gorgeous.” Deacon retorted, throwing his arm around Tom’s shoulders with a smile.

“Ah shit Deek, you only say that when you want something.”

Danse narrowed his eyes at the exchange, trying to ascertain Deacon’s motives for continually prodding Nora, it was as if the man was seeing just how far he could push her before she snapped. Fortunately, she seemed rather disinterested in the conversation, instead staring at the holotape still grasped in Tom’s hand.

Deacon shrugged, turning back to Nora in an instant. “I see you’re back in blue, Charmer.”

She raised her eyebrow, cocking her chin out defiantly as she answered. “Yeah, and don’t even think about asking for the dress back. That’s mine now. Think of it as collateral for putting up with you being a dick all night.”

Despite himself, Danse could feel a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips at her derision toward Deacon. A fact which had apparently not gone unnoticed by the man as he turned toward him slightly. It was clear Deacon was playing at some bigger game, but as to what it was, Danse couldn’t be sure.

“If you insist. But I’m telling you, between the two of us? I wore it best.” Deacon answered with a dramatic sigh, nudging Tom in the arm. “Well are you going to give Charms her code or are you trying to keep her here all night?”

Tom immediately extended his arm forward, offering her the holotape, which she quickly grabbed. “Thanks again guys... I guess uh, now I have to figure out what to do with it.”

Danse noticed the evasive answer, and felt a surge of pride that Nora was so careful as not to let it slip that they already had the plans to utilize such code.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out... you always seem to have an ace up your sleeve.” Deacon answered, his tone more even and serious than Danse anticipated he could be. It was almost startling, the sudden stoicism a stark contrast from the flamboyant persona he had been sporting just moments before.

Nora forced a tense smile to her face, obviously sensing the change as well. “What can I say? I’ve been lucky so far.”

“Hm.” Deacon hummed, the joyful facade falling back into place. “Well, you’re welcome to stay if you need somewhere safe for the night. Or if you want to try and out drink Glory again.”

She grunted in response, wrinkling her nose with a shudder. “As much as I’ll miss basking in the comforting smell of mildew down here, I don’t think that’s... ideal.”

The other man nodded, turning toward Danse, the weight of his gaze apparent even behind the sunglasses. “Try not to get into too much trouble then. ”

As generic as the words sounded, there was an air of warning to it, offering an unspoken implication.

_Don't go making trouble for us._

“Ah, Deaks. You should know by now, I’m nothing but trouble.” Nora quipped, much to Danse’s irritation. Realistically, he knew that Nora was just playing into Deacon’s flippant jests, but to see her so damn friendly with a man who was clearly a manipulator and a liar made him uneasy.

“And that’s exactly why I like you.” Deacon answered with a smirk, gesturing toward the room across from them. “Not to be a bad host, but I have some work to do with PAM. See you around, Charmer.”

She hummed in response to his retreat, looking back up toward Danse with a start. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“Very.” He agreed, eager to put as much distance between himself and the infamous Railroad as possible.

*

It wasn’t until the welcome chill of the night air struck her face that Nora allowed herself a chance to truly breath. As much as she had trusted that the Railroad would abide Danse’s presence, she couldn’t deny the mounting anxiety in her stomach as she noticed the skeptical glances he’d received. It hadn’t be entirely overt, but she noticed how every time he’d shifted, one of the nearby agents seemed to mirror his movement, keeping him in sight at all times.

She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that they were preparing for the worst case scenario. Hell, had the situation been reversed, she had no doubt that the Brotherhood would have shot any Railroad agent aboard the Prydwen dead in a matter of seconds. But the idea of having dozens of people monitoring them, the agents’ hands blatantly hovering over their weapons as they stood watch, was nauseating

“Well, that could have gone smoother.” Danse stated finally, turning to look back at the door to the church.

“I’m honestly just glad neither one of us is riddled with bullet holes.” She muttered, shooting him a quick glance. “Sanctuary is still at least a day’s journey, if not more. Diamond City is a couple hours out. There’s Cambridge, but last I heard there were some Raiders camping out along the river...”

“I wasn’t aware of that.” He stated with a frown, scanning the area absentmindedly.

“Yeah well... I’d prefer not test the validity of the claim.” Nora answered with a small smirk, opening the PipBoy to check the map. Tinker Tom had managed to update the topographical features during her first night at HQ and she was relieved to actually see places she recognized now, instead of just the ones she used to know.

“Agreed.”

Without another word, she started toward where the map indicated Diamond City was, not wanting to risk drawing attention to them in the quiet of the night. Danse apparently had the same thought, falling into step behind her as they silently navigated the expansive alley ways.

Just as Nora had entertained the thought that they’d been making fairly good time and had been lucky not to encounter any hostiles as of yet, the grumble of deep, angry voices reached her ears. As soon as she heard the sound, she knew it would be far too late to avoid the hoard of mutants residing in the building ahead of them.

She looked around desperately, trying to find any cover that would adequately protect them from the approaching beeping, a tight panic entrapping her chest. Before she could make another movement, she felt Danse pull her arm, nearly dragging her toward a narrow alley.

The mutant apparently was not dissuaded as she pushed Danse through the opening first, only moments before squeezing into the space herself.

“What are you doing? Get behind me.” Danse ordered, his eyes wide as he met her own terrified ones, ushering her further away from the entrance. Before she could object, she felt the sudden wave of heat over take them, the ringing in her ears echoing with the resounding explosion as the supermutant slammed his body into the wall directly outside the entrance.

Nora could feel her head spinning, a stab of pain moving through her arm with all the fire of a thousand suns, only distracted by the dull ache in her thigh. She blinked her eyes, trying to make sense of the scene around her. Danse was the first thing she saw, rushing toward her in an instant, a small pool of red along her forearm immediately drawing her attention.

“You hurt.” She stated, her voice sounding more confused than she’d intended as she watched him.

“I’m fine.” He assured, reaching for her arm and sucking in a quick breath as he touch the fabric, stained in it’s own growing puddle of red.

“Oh.” Nora offered absentmindedly, more surprised that she hadn’t realized that her arm had even felt dampness or warmth of her blood. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Did you hit you head?” He ordered, reaching to touch the side of her face as he scanned her eyes. The movement was brief and analytical, reminding Nora of how a doctor would check the pupillary responses of a patient.

“Probably.” She admitted, wincing as she brought her PipBoy forward, checking the screen displaying her vitals. _Heart rate steady, but rapid. It probably shouldn’t be dropping quite so quick though... Pulse ox is good. Blood pressure is acceptable, considering._ “I’ll be fine.”

“There is no way you’re going to make it to Diamond City with that arm.” Danse insisted, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. “Are there any settlements nearby?”

Clicking over to the map, she let out a small scoff. Had she not felt like her head was suddenly swimming, she would have considered pushing forward toward Diamond City, but she knew he was right.

“Yeah. There’s Goodneighbor.”

“Goodneighbor?” He asked meeting her eyes with a start. “Isn’t that where-”

“Yeah. The very same.” Nora sighed, checking the map once more before nodded to an adjoining alleyway. “Come on, it’s actually... it’s actually just around the corner.”


	33. Jazzy Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I proof read the first scene then lost interest.

Danse watched as Nora banged her fist against the bright red door with a force he couldn’t have possibly imagined her capable, especially considering how she had been swaying dangerously only moments prior. He kept his eyes glued to the still growing stain of blood against her upper arm, watching helplessly as it coated her suit, darkening the fabric into a nauseating shade of maroon that was rapidly becoming his least favorite color.

“God dammit open this fucking door!” Nora bellowed, the metallic echo surrounding them in the narrow alley as her fist rapped against the door once more.

“Nora? What the hell are you doing out there?” A gravely voice asked from above them, crackling slightly through what he could only assume was an intercom that was undoubtedly affixed somewhere to the wall.

“I’m playing Bingo, Ham. What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” She snapped, looking up into the darkness overhead with a glare.

“Shit. I can let you in, but you know your friend isn’t allowed... Mayor’s orders.” Ham answered, pausing slightly before continuing. “You’re the only Brotherhood soldier allowed passed these walls.”

“I swear to God Ham, if you don’t let us both in, I’ll find a way in myself and then I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll wish you were back in 2077.” She warned, gritting her teeth as she grasped her injured arm, her fingers immediately becoming drenched in the crimson blood.

The intercom crackled to life again, the voice hesitating before answering with an audible sigh. “You know I can’t defy Hancock... not even for you.”

“No? Then you can tell him you let me bleed out right here on his doorstep. I’m sure he’ll be _really_ pleased with you then.” Nora retorted flippantly as Danse watched in shock, surprised at how she could be so calm when she’d just leveraged her life like a bargaining chip. “How about you go get John and let me talk to him? If he’d going to condemn us both, he should at least have the courage to make that decision himself.”

The resulting silence was oppressive, squeezing the air straight out of Danse’s lungs as he tried to imagine how the hell he was supposed to tend to Nora’s injuries in a completely unsecured area with their minimal resources. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for leaving his armor back at Cambridge for what he had thought would only be a brief trip to Bunker Hill.

“Oh princess. How I’ve missed you.” A gravely voice drew, and Danse noticed how Nora relaxed at the sound, looking up toward the direction of the sound with a wry smirk.

“John. I hear you’re not willing to let us in.” She offered plainly, the evenness of her tone the only indication of her mounting frustration.

“I hear you’re being feisty with my guys.” Hancock replied, humming in amusement as if he too recognized her irritation.

“Ah, and here I thought you liked that about me.” Nora answered, shooting Danse a brief look where he stood, ever aware of the gnawing irritation in his stomach.

_You’re jealous. This is jealousy._

The realization was unnerving, because as much as he wanted to deny that he had become so alarmingly enamored with his subordinate, have long since passed the mark of regarding her in a strictly professional manner, he knew with every ounce of logic and reason that it was absolutely true.

“So it seems. Maybe kitten would be a better nickname for you.” Hancock stated, clearly enjoying the banter far more than Danse was as he listened restlessly. “You definitely have claws.”

_More akin to a Deathclaw, I’d imagine..._

As friendly as her tone had been moments prior, it turned cold and harsh as she spoke. “How about you let us in and I won’t have to show you how _feisty_ I get when my friend’s lives are in danger?”

The door in front of them swung open only a few moments later, Hancock himself peaking around the corner with a smirk. “Heh. Promise?”

“Promise not to make you wish you never turned ghoul.” She answered with a terse smile, turning to Danse with a nod, indicating that they were good to enter. He followed without a word, frowning as he observed the dark streets around them.

Where Diamond City had the benefit of near-oppressive and omnipresent lighting, Goodneighbor was just the opposite. It had all the ambiance of a den of impiety, the very air past the threshold seeming to hang aggressively around them, as if taunting the immorality of the city within. The meager crowd of drifters that looked so severely strung out, seemingly unaware of their own movements as they ambled by certainly didn’t help elevate Danse’s impression of the place in the slightest.

Hancock cleared his throat, pointing toward Nora’s injured arm with a frown. “What’re you wrapped up in this time?”

Danse could feel a slight sense of ironic amusement at the question, and was surprised to find himself on the same side of the ghoul regarding the topic of Nora’s rampant charity.

“Are you going to stand here and mock me, or are you going to shut up and let me get cleaned up?” She complained, narrowing her eyes at Hancock who just sighed in response and nodded toward a weathered door behind them.

“You’re lucky I like you, sister.” Hancock mumbled, holding the door open as they entered and pointing toward the stair case.

She raised her eyebrow, but followed where he indicated without objection. “I’ll be sure to write my local senator about your hospitable service, Mayor Hancock.”

Danse followed her up the stairs quietly, glaring at Hancock as he passed, to which the other man only offered a wink before slipping back out the door. Before he had time to interpret such an intrepid gesture, he realized that Nora had made her way through a doorway at the top of the stairs, disappearing into the darkness inside. Mere moments later, light filled the room, revealing what by all accounts appeared to be a make-shift clinic, compete with a collection of rusted gurneys topped with questionably stained mattresses.

“Sit.” He ordered as he entered, pointing toward the closest gurney, blessedly relieved when Nora actually followed his instruction.

_Well, that’s certainly a first._

“There should be a med kit somewhere inside the desk over there.” She offered, pointing to the rusty desk pushed flush against the wall. “John likes to make sure it’s stocked in case any injured drifters wander through the gates.”

Danse could feel himself pause only briefly before moving to the desk and opening the drawer. Just as she had indicated, the drawers were stocked to the brim with medical supplies. “That’s certainly generous of him.”

“Yeah... He’s not a bad guy, you know.” Nora let out a small laugh before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a shameless flirt and he hits the chems a bit harder than I would typically approve of... But, he takes care of his people.”

“That is... admirable, I suppose.” He offered, locating several stimpaks, various medications and wads of mostly-clean gauze in the drawers.

When he turned around, he noticed Nora had stripped her vault suit down into a pile on the floor, revealing the tight white tank top and grey long johns that she had apparently been wearing underneath. Danse cleared his throat, trying with all his being not to focus on the fact that she had apparently been comfortable enough to undress as he was busy gathering the supplies.

She smirked as she apparently noticed his gaze, still gripping her upper arm firmly. “I learned the hard way the vault suit chafes after a few hours.”

Danse nodded, remembering his own experience with an unforgiving jumpsuit years prior. “I see... I learned a similar lesson with our Brotherhood flight suits.”

“Not something you want to re-live.” She agreed, letting out a gentle laugh as he placed the supplies on the edge of the gurney.

“Definitely not.” He answered, gently grabbing her upper arm as he tried to evaluate the severity of the wound that had fortunately stopped bleeding _quite_ as rapidly as before.

Almost instinctively, he grabbed the Med-X and moved to inject the contents of the syringe as she flinched away. “I don’t need that.”

“The shrapnel appears to have lacerated a fair portion of your arm and the resulting injury appears to be relatively deep... You are undoubtedly in a significant amount of pain. There’s no need to muscle through this, Nora.” Danse retorted with a frown.

“I don’t _want_ it.” She insisted firmly, looking to meet his eyes with an urgency behind her own.

“You- I see.” He acknowledged, remembering exactly _why_ she had such a severe aversion to that particular drug and regretfully placing the medication back on the edge of the bed. “I apologize for my insensitivity.”

“It’s okay. I... I know you’re just trying to help.” She muttered, wincing as he pressed a wad gauze over the deep wound to stymie the hemorrhage.

“Of course. Will you accept a Stimpak, at least?” He urged, hoping she wouldn’t be so foolish to deny the regenerative properties of the medication simply on principle.

Nora sighed, nodding silently as he reached for the syringe. He watched her tense briefly as he injected the medication into her arm, careful not to depress the plunger too abruptly. He took care to bandage her arm as gently as possible, wrapping the gauze with the thin strips of fabric he’d snagged from the desk.

Danse was desperately trying to ignore the terrifying images flashing through his mind at what could have happened, had he not practically dragged her into the safety of the alley. His heart was still racing as he recalled her frozen, terrified expression the moment she’d heard the rapid beeping of the suicider approaching.

“What about you? You’re injured.” She interjected, looking to the drying pool of blood on the forearm of his suit with a frown as he tied the final piece of fabric to affix her bandages in place.

“I was simply scratched by a small portion of the airborne debris from the blast. I assure you, it’s nothing-” He defended.

“Let me see.” Nora demanded, frowning as she starred at the stain intently. Danse quietly obeyed, undoing and rolling his suit down just enough the get his arm free, revealing his t-shirt underneath as he tied the sleeves of the flight suit around his waist. He extended his arm toward her, the scrape already scabbing over with the dried blood. She grasped his forearm instantly, carefully scrutinizing the laceration with unwavering focus before releasing his arm with a sigh. “I... I suppose it’s nothing too serious.”

At her sudden admittance, he could feel a brief smile teasing at his lips. “Astute analysis. I’d came to the same conclusion.”

“Sorry for being worried about you.” She stated sarcastically, dropping her arm back to her side as she cocked her head stubbornly toward him. The gesture would have been far more endearing, had they not just narrowly escaped death by super mutant.

“It’s yourself that you ought to be concerned with.” He answered, trying to push away his own growing anxiety at _exactly_ how close they had come to peril.

“You should know by now that I’m nothing if not resilient.” She replied confidently, smiling as she caught his eye. “Stop worrying so much about me.”

“I...I can’t.” He admitted, turning his gaze toward the stained fabric of the mattress in front of him. The words had come out near reflexively, hanging between them for a tense moment before he sighed. As vulnerable as the words were, it was the truth, and she had every right to know exactly how worried he’d been in her absence.

Nora paused, bringing her hand up to caress his face in a gentle motion that he allowed himself to welcome, relaxing against her palm. “Danse-”

“I told you... I can’t lose you.” He blurted before he could reign in the confession, still looking down at the gurney.

“You won’t.” She promised softly, meeting his eyes with an overwhelmingly tender expression. Danse mirrored her gesture, bringing his hand to her cheek as he scanned her face. He was all too aware of how his mind was spinning, spiraling out of control as his resolve faltered under her gaze.

The closeness felt like too much and not enough all in one, Nora’s sudden hitch of her breath the only thing he could focus on as she leaned in toward him, hesitating only slightly. Danse could feel the pressure of her other hand as she laid it against his chest, the sensation quickly replaced by that of her lips tentatively brushing against his own.

He leaned into the contact instinctively, bringing his hand to grasp the back of her neck as she moved her lips breathtakingly slow, kissing him with an unfamiliar intimacy. It was something wholly foreign, an affection he’d never known, but that he suddenly didn’t want to be without.

Nora pulled back gradually, a faint blush along her cheeks as she met his gaze, her eyes wide. Without thinking, he brought his other hand to the opposite side of her face and pressed his lips back against hers, mimicking her movements carefully. She return the kiss eagerly, a fact that caused a surge of surprised bliss to expand in his chest as she gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“Ah shit, now I owe Mac twenty caps.” The familiar, gravely voice interrupted, causing them both to jump back with a start. Danse turned to see Hancock leaning against the door frame with a smirk, and he was certain that he couldn’t possibly hate the ghoul any more than he did in that moment.

“Jesus John. Don’t you know how to knock?” Nora snapped breathlessly as she glared at the offending party, forcing her face into it's usual composure.

“On what? It’s not like there’s a door. Besides kitten, this _is_ my place, after all." Hancock answered, turning toward Danse with a smug grin. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“You didn’t.” Danse interjected, regretting the words immediately as Nora shot him a glance, her expression unreadable.

“Now now, don’t go lying to me crew cut.” Hancock warned, his tone falling somewhere between playful and threatening as he narrowed his blackened eyes at him.

“It’s fine, John.” She reassured, turning to the other man with an awkward, forced smile.

“I was just checking on you to make sure you were being taken care of... From the looks of it you were _really_ being taken care of. Heh.” Danse watched as Nora went an alarming shade of crimson, looking away from the ghoul with a start. The reality of what had transpired moments before was beginning to dawn on him, inspiring a slew of panicked questions to form.

While he was aware that he harbored less than platonic feelings regarding Nora, growing ever more obvious to him over the past few weeks, he hadn’t anticipated that anything would actually come to fruition. The development only served to fluster him, further confusing his thoughts as he tried to process what exactly had been building between them on their most recent missions.

_It’s wrong. She’s your subordinate and you took advantage of her in her injured state. It’s shameful to conduct yourself in such a manner, soldier. Maxson would have a conniption if he found out about this._

“Thanks for checking on me.” Nora stated awkwardly, cautioning a quick look to her friend as she crossed her arms. “I uh, I think I’ll live.”

“Wonderful... I guess that means I won’t have to hold your friend here _personally_ responsible for letting you get yourself killed out there.” Hancock answered, the thinly veiled threat painful apparent in the confines of the small space. “I was actually stopping by to let you know that the good doctor wanted to see you.”

Nora frowned, drawing her eyebrows together in thought. “Amari? What does she want with me?”

“Said something about some Minutemen business. I guess they haven’t been able to hail you on the radio.” He answered, his eyes darting to where Danse stood silently watching the exchange.

“Shit. Alright I’ll head over there in a bit. Thanks, John.” She muttered, running a hand through her hair.

“Anytime, clementine.” Hancock called, turning exit the room with a shrug.

Danse frowned, trying to figure out what the other man had been referring to with his statements about how the Minutemen were unable to reach her. He knew that she was working with them to help many of the local settlements, but he wasn’t aware that she had any sort of specified radio communication with them. It made sense though, especially given the expansive distance between many of the settlements, but he hadn’t heard any sort of broadcasts regarding Minutemen business during their travels.

Nora turned toward him, slowly scanning his face with wide, nervous eyes. “So... Uh, about that-”

“I apologize for acting inappropriately with you Nora. I allowed my judgment to be compromised and I behaved unprofessionally.” He rushed, watching her face with anxious intensity as she blinked, quickly looking away at the words. Even as she stared down at her hands, he could see the sudden hurt expression cross her features and he wanted to kick himself for inspiring her apparent distress.

“Understood, Paladin. I should go see the Doc.” She rushed, moving to stand and slip out the door before he could correct his grievous miscommunication.

“That’s not-” Danse started, the words falling dead on his lips at her sudden absence.

_That’s not what I meant._

He didn’t know what to think or how to feel about their kiss. Sure, Nora had initiated it, but he was wrong to return such intimacy, especially as her superior officer. To be fair, it wasn’t as if they actually adhered to any of the Brotherhood’s rules regarding rank or procedure, but he didn’t want Nora to bear the impression that he would behave inappropriately toward her, should she express that her advances toward him were misguided.

It simply didn’t make sense, he reasoned, to think that she would hold any feelings of affection toward him. He couldn’t imagine what had possibly possessed her to kiss him, but he reasoned it was simply misplaced appreciation for his help tending to her wounds. Danse knew how dangerous it was to fall for your partner in the field, compromising the safety of all parties involved in the mission. He reasoned that it was for the best that the boundaries of professionalism be adhered to, for both their sake.

But by Atom if he wouldn’t have given anything to feel her lips pressed against his own just once more.

*

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Nora cursed herself as she sped down the stairs of the State House, barely aware of the people mulling about, running straight into one of Hancock’s guards as she turned the corner.

“Fuck.” She muttered, looking up and relaxing as she recognized the face glaring down at her own. “Hey Fahr. Sorry about that...”

“Shit. Where’s the fire?” The other woman grumbled, shooting her a skeptical look as she took in her attire. “I hope you’re not planning to go running around Goodneighbor dressed like that. Hancock will have to stab a few more people by the end of the night if you do.”

Nora let out a quick laugh, shaking her head. “No I suppose not... I just needed to get-” _The hell away from the crushing sense of embarrassment of kissing my boss and then being rejected in the most bureaucratic way possible._ “I was on my way to visit Amari.”

Fahrenheit raised her eyebrow, pointing toward a hallway behind them with a faint smirk. “There should be some clothes and shit in one of the rooms down there. I’m sure Hancock won’t mind if you take whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” The woman answered with a roll of her eyes before turning to head up the stairs, pausing briefly as she turned back to Nora. “I’m just saying, you’re lucky my father likes you. I don’t know anyone who could get away with half the shit you pull.”

_You and me both, kid.._

“Noted.” Nora stated flatly, watching as Fahrenheit disappeared up the stairs and turning back toward the hallway.

As if by some miracle, the first room she checked had a multitude of armor and clothing, undoubtedly collected from the various passing drifters over the years. After finding a few relatively clean pieces close to her size and changing into them, she made her way back out into the shadowy streets of Goodneighbor, relieved for the chill of the air that was helping to clear the fog that had begun settling over her thoughts.

She knew that she would have to confront what had happened with Danse sooner or later, but she quickly decided that it was the last thing she wanted to think about, for the time being. Besides, apparently Preston had been trying to get in contact with her and that thought alone inspired it’s own sense of dread. She hadn’t seen ‘Sanctuary’ in her list of active broadcasts for the past few days, but she figured that it was just because the settlements hadn’t needed any assistance.

In retrospect, it seemed a foolish assumption since the settlements _always_ seemed to need help with something or another. Nora pushed open the door to the Memory Den, immediately spotting her target in the corner, arguing with Irma in hushed tones.

As soon as she entered, the pair looked up and Amari offered her a terse smile. “Mrs. Hartt.”

Nora could feel herself flinch at the formality, shaking her head with a frown. “It’s just Nora... please.”

“Nora. My apologies.” Amari correct, shooting Irma a quick glance before continuing. “I’d say it’s nice to see you, but I have the feeling this isn’t exactly a social visit.”

“I was told you were looking for me?” She prodded, a deep sense of worry growing in the pit of her stomach

“Ah yes, of course. A Colonel Garvey radioed in on Kent’s Silver Shroud broadcast, asking to get a message to you.” The doctor elaborated, pausing to ensure Nora was following.

“Okay...”

“He... He mentioned something about losing Jamaica Plains. Asked you to meet him there in three days time.” Amari offered, her tone careful and guarded at the revelation.

“Fuck!” Nora spat with a frown, shaking her head quickly. _Of course Jamaica Plains was wiped out. I fucking told Preston time and time again that they weren’t safe enough there._ “When was this?”

The other woman paused, appearing taken back by her sudden outburst. “That was just this morning. I suppose it’s fortunate that you stopped by when you did.”

“Yeah lucky me.” She answered dryly, forcing a neutral expression to her face as she offered a curt nod to Amari. “Thank you... I appreciate you letting me know about this.”

The doctor returned her nod quickly with an air of professionalism. “Of course, General.”

Nora could feel an angry laugh building in her throat upon hearing the title, but she repressed the sound completely. There was no need for her to lash out at the other woman for using the rank she’d willingly accepted.

“Ma’am.” She stated instead, turning back to the hallway with a frown, her mind churning into action as she tried to discern her next steps.

As late as it was, she couldn’t resist the urge to slip into the Third Rail for a drink, thoroughly determined to avoid going back to the State House for as long as possible. A part of her felt guilty about the fact that she was going to leave Danse alone in a city that was so diametrically opposed to his sense of ethics and morality, but the thought of facing him so soon after the earlier events of the night sent jolts of terror through her body.

_Of course you’re going to run. That’s what you do, after all._

She nodded to the Triggerman standing guard by the door, relieved that he appeared to be a recent hire and she didn’t have to maintain the pleasant facade of cordiality with him. Most of all, she wanted to be numb, to push back the feelings of anger and sadness that were swirling around inside her, taking residence in the pit of her stomach.

Almost as if expecting her, Charlie had placed a bottle of bourbon on the counter, waving her away with a grunt as she slid a handful of caps across the counter. Nora grabbed the bottle in an instant, slipping into the back room where she had first met MacCready only a couple months before, still gripping the liquor like it was a life vest. She settled into a worn couch, uncapping the bourbon and immediately taking a hearty swig, almost enjoying the burn of the alcohol against her throat.

She stayed seated on the couch for a while, taking liberal swigs of the rancid booze as the faint notes of Magnolia’s songs made their way through the door. When the door finally opened, she almost laughed as she saw who exactly had interrupted her.

_Of course John would find me here._

“Hey sunshine.” Hancock drawled with an amused grin. “Your boyfriend is looking for you.”

Nora let out a bitter laugh, the alcohol allowing her to be more derisive than normal. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah shit. What happened?” He asked, flopping down on the couch next to her and reaching to grab the bottle from her hands.

“Nothing... Maybe. I don’t know.” She grumbled, releasing the bottle to him without objection.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I sent him to find Bobbi. Told him he that she was the last person to see you.” Hancock offered, taking a liberal swig from the bottle.

“What? _Before she died?_ John...” Nora let out a small laugh, imagining Danse trying to locate the deceased woman as he interrogated the unsuspecting citizens of Goodneighbor with a steadfast intensity. “That’s pretty fucked up, even for you.”

“What can I say? I got a sick sense of humor.” He defended, taking another drink of the bourbon before passing it back to her.

She took it quietly, staring at a rusted spot on the wall absentmindedly for several long moments before speaking again. “I kissed him, as you know... And... He told me it was inappropriate and unprofessional.” Hancock sucked in a quick breath, retrieving a metal tin from his coat as he watched her silently. “I don’t know what I expected... I’m such an idiot.”

“Listen... You know that I’m the last person in line to defend that self-righteous tin can, any day of the week. But, it’s pretty clear that the asshole cares about you, and not in the way those Bigots-of-Steel would approve of.” Hancock stated, turning to look at her with a slight frown. “And if he’s going to sit there and deny it, he doesn’t deserve another second of your time.”

“Wise words from the junkie philosopher?” She asked dryly, mulling over his words as she toyed with the cap of the bourbon bottle.

“You got it, princess. Free of charge, just for you.” He answered, relaxing back against the couch and closing his eyes. “So what trouble did you find yourself in this time?”

She paused, considering what details to divulge. “I have to meet Preston down at Jamaica Plains in a couple days.”

Hancock shot her a quick look before nodding. “Yeah, I heard about that... I meant with your kid.”

“I... I have a possible lead.” Nora admitted, taking a long drink from the bottle, trying not to reel as the liquid reached her stomach, seeming to scorch the poor organ down to the muscle.

“Yeah? Good.” Hancock sighed, looking over to her suddenly. “I know I don’t know shit about being a dad... Fahr was almost grown by the time I knew about her, and I’m not exactly what you'd call an exemplary role model, but I do know that if anything happened to my kid I’d be hell bent on making shit right.”

“Yeah...” She let out a scoff, shaking her head slightly. “That’s actually _exactly_ what being a parent is, John.”

“Well maybe I’m not fucking it up as bad as I thought I was.” He answered with a faint chuckle.

Nora raised her eyebrow at the sound before continuing. “If it feels like you’re doing everything wrong, you’re probably on the right track.”

“Now who's being grim?”

“It’s true.” She offered with an angry smirk, closing her eyes as she felt the warmth of the booze move through her like fire. “Do you have any beds open tonight?”

Hancock paused, looking to the corner quickly as a self-assured grin teased his mouth. “I’m sure I can swing something at the Rexford for you, assuming-”

“Assume.” She answered quickly, narrowing her eyes as he shrugged and moved to stand.

“I’m just saying, my bed is always open” He joked, shooting her a brief glance.

Nora rolled her eyes at the man, screwing the lid back onto the bourbon. “You’d bed a Deathclaw, if you could.”

“You know me so well, darlin'.” Hancock answered, extending his hand to help her up. She took it, allowing him to steady her before following him wordlessly, ever aware of her languid movements as the booze sped through her system, settling her nerves.

Blessedly, Hancock had been able to get her a room on the ground floor of the Rexford and she collapsed into the bed contently, still cradling the bottle as she blinked up lazily at her friend. “Thanks John. ‘Preciate it.”

“Eh, don’t mention it.” He assured, turning with a flourish to exit the room and closing the door behind him.

Any worries Nora had about the events of the day faded to blackness as she drifted to sleep, thankful for the small reprieve before she’d have to inevitably deal with yet another crisis in the morning.

*

It had taken Danse nearly an hour to ascertain that the woman, ‘Bobbi’ was not in fact a current resident of Goodneighbor, having disappeared months prior under the suspicious circumstances of an alleged ‘rewarding endeavor’. He was relieved to find the ghoul woman at the general store to be fairly hospitable, a stark contrast from the hooligans loitering around the square outside her place of business that he was certain were up to no good.

Daisy had been the only civilian willing to divulge the information of Bobbi’s suspicious absence, citing that the woman had been apparently plotting against Mayor Hancock before disappearing without a trace. As much as he detested the man on principle, he had to acknowledge that the ghoul’s reputation certainly preceded him, painting the man in a decently favorable light among the city’s residents.

He saw the ghoul himself push out of the building bearing the name ‘Hotel Rexford’ as he turned the corner of the alley. Almost instantaneously, Danse was next to Hancock, scowling down at the other man with a pronounced frown.

“Crew cut.” Hancock offered, releasing the door to the hotel open with a smug smirk.

“Hancock.” He offered cooly, glowering down at the ghoul.

“To what do I owe this _unique_ pleasure?” Hancock almost purred, stepping closer to Danse as he cocked his head.

“Enough with the games. Where is Nora?” Danse insisted, frowning at the cock-sured smirk the other man was bearing. He hardly thought Nora’s whereabouts in the disreputable town were a laughing matter.

“She’s sleeping, I assume.” Hancock stated flippantly, moving to grab a pack of cigarettes from his coat.

“You assume?” He demanded, watching as the ghoul lit the cigarette painfully slow.

“I just made sure she got settled into her room for the night. And don’t worry, I was a perfect gentleman, promise.” Hancock answered with a shrug, the billow of smoke partially masking his features as he took a long drag.

“I see.” Danse offered with a scowl, trying not to imagine what constituted being a ‘gentleman’ for the ghoul. The air smelt nauseatingly of stale tobacco, and he had to keep from reeling at the offensive stench.

“Yeah..” Hancock offered carefully, scanning the other man’s face with a pronounced frown. “Hey Danse?”

“Hancock.”

Hancock let out a heavy sigh, taking another heavy drag of the cigarette as he spoke. “Listen. You can take what I say with a grain of salt or ignore it completely, it makes no difference to me but... Nora’s practically a saint compared to the rest of the Commonwealth, and for whatever misguided reason, she decided you’re worth giving a shit about, so... Don’t fuck that up.”

“I-” Danse hesitated, suddenly ever-aware of his own lack of confidence regarding where he stood with Nora. He could feel a surge of mounting frustration at the realization that she had confided in Hancock of all people about how poorly he’d handled the resulting conversation regarding their kiss. It was bad enough that the ghoul had walked in on them, but the fact that Nora had turned to the other man in her moment of distress was gut-wrenching. “I assure you, I have her best interests in mind.”

“Don’t we all?” Hancock shot him an all too perceptive look before pointing back to the door of the hotel. “Tell Jules that I sent you to her. She should have a room for you.”

“I... I appreciate the hospitality.” He answered, frowning ever deeper as he watched Hancock saunter away without another word.

Danse pushed open the door to the Rexford silently, scanning the lobby until he spotted the surly older woman behind the counter who glared at him as he approached. “Excuse me, ma'am. Are you Jules?”

“That depends. Who’s asking?” The woman cautioned, narrowing her eyes briefly as she looked down to his jumsuit.

“Mayor Hancock advised that I ought to ask for you.” He replied, not particularly keen to divulge his name lest it be associated with Goodneighbor.

Jules rolled her eyes, dropping a key on the counter and pointing to the staircase behind her. “Room 17.”

“Thank you for your assistance.” Danse offered politely, trying not to bristle at the woman’s rudeness.

She just glared at him for a brief moment before turning back to the terminal. “I guess Hancock is just letting anyone in now...”

He took the key silently, frowning as he made his way up the stairs. Everything that had happened that day played through his mind, inspiring the sudden sensation as if he’d taken a crowbar directly to the head. It was confusing and overwhelming trying to keep up with Nora at the best of times. She seemed to have her hand in every happening across the Commonwealth but also seemed to keep everyone at arms length. Everyone except him, that was, and he didn't understand it for a second.

Danse had noticed how guarded and tense she was speaking with Deacon and Tom in the Railroad’s headquarters. He recognized when Hancock had appeared in the doorway of the clinic earlier how quickly her carefully constructed mask had fallen back into place. He didn’t understand why Nora allowed him so close and the realization only confounded him further.

She had kissed him, and more importantly, he had kissed her back. Every warning bell and objection he should have adhered to blessedly ignored as he felt her lips against his.

Then he’d gone a put his foot straight into his mouth and claimed it was a lapse in judgment, of all things. The look that she’d had at his words eviscerated him and he watched hopelessly as she recomposed herself in a matter of seconds, reclaiming the feigned confident expression he’d come to dread.

He had unintentionally dismissed any chance that there could be anything more than professional between them; despite every ounce of logic and line of procedure that would indicate such a thing was a benefit, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

Danse tried to close his eyes and imagine what Cutler would say to him if he were there. His friend had always prattled on about his dalliances, urging him to try his hand at relationships as well. Cutler had tried and failed to set Danse up on more than one occasion, much to the former’s amusement.

He didn’t know what to to think. 

Hell, Nora had been _married_ for Christ’s sake and he hadn’t even the slightest of experience with such intimacy. 

The longer he sat on the edge of the bed and thought about the matter, the more powerless he felt. As hard as he tried to find any answers to the questions overwhelming his mind, it was useless to try and figure anything out without speaking to Nora.

It would still be several hours until dawn and he knew that they would be some of the longest hours of his life. He forced himself to lay down, to try and get a couple hours of sleep, even if the idea seemed beyond futile.

*

Nora had been jostled awake by the sound of a knock on her door, practically toppling to the floor as she stood, barely catching herself on the side table. She briefly considered tossing the half empty bottle of bourbon at the door on principle, but decided against it, even if only just so.

“Rise and shine, my dear!” The sultry female voice sang, far too cheerfully than it had any right to be so early in the morning. Nora threw open the door with a grimace, blinking slowly as she saw the familiar face smiling at her.

“Mags? What’s going on?” She asked, her voice thick with sleep as she squinted at the singer, still in her shimmering gold dress from the night before.

Magnolia raised an eyebrow, looking far more put together than was strictly necessary as such an hour. “Sorry to wake you, darling. But there’s a particularly grumpy looking soldier stomping around the lobby. I figured he was yours?”

Nora could feel her cheeks heat up with the sudden intensity of a thousand suns at the description and quickly cleared her throat. “Does he have a permanent scowl and a scar above his right eyebrow?”

“That’s the one, sugar.” The singer confirmed with a sly smirk, eyeing Nora’s expression carefully.

“Shit. Alright, I’ll be out in a bit.” Nora mumbled, trying to focus on anything besides the mortifying realization of what had had happened between her and Danse the previous night. Her thoughts felt heavy and slow, as if a fog had settled around her brain prevent any attempts at clear thinking.

“I thought he belonged to you... Pity.” Magnolia hummed, turning to make her way down the hallway. “Better not take too long. He’s looking especially cantankerous, even for the clientele here in Goodneighbor.”

  
”Thanks Mags.” She called, watching the other woman retreat around the corner. The singer’s words were taunting her thoughts, antagonizing any semblance of focus as she quickly attempted to compose herself and slammed the door shut.

Nora looked around the room, relieved to see that Hancock had apparently dropped her pack and rifle off while she slept. The thought that he had waltzed in unnoticed while she was passed out cold should have bothered her more, but she was really just glad to have a clean set of clothes to change into, even if it was the offending orange Brotherhood jumpsuit and not her vault suit. She made a mental note to swing back by Vault 114 to grab a few more, or ask Preston to pick some up next time she made her way back to Sanctuary.

As much as she would have killed for a shower, it seemed pointless to put too much effort into getting cleaned up just to take the day’s long journey down to Jamaica Plains. Besides, she was lucky enough to have used the facilities back at Railroad HQ, which was more than most wastelanders could say.

After quickly checking the room a final time, Nora swung her pack over her back and clipped Righteous to the front of her suit before exiting into the hallway, in search of the very person she was both desperate and terrified to find. Almost immediately she spotted Danse, his eyebrows drawn down as he slowly paced the expansive of the lobby. Upon noticing her, his expression grew soft in a way that tore at her chest, only confusing her more.

“Nora.” He offered as she approached, his eyes scanning her face in a look she would caution to describe as nervous.

“Danse.” She answered, letting out a quick breath as she met his wide eyes with a start. It felt like all her blood had started rushing to her head as she hopelessly tried to interpret the look he was giving her. “Did you sleep?”

“I-Yes. I received adequate rest.” He stated with a frown, looking away at the words. “And yourself?”

“Yeah.” She lied, forcing a tense smile to her face as she pointed to the entrance. “We should head out. I have to meet Preston down at Jamaica Plains and we’ll be lucky to make it there by night fall.”

“We?”

Nora could feel her heart drop at the question and kicked herself for assuming he’d want to come with. She quickly cleared her throat and looked to the ground. “I mean, if you want. I have to go down there regardless... I didn’t mean to assume-”

“I want to.” He insisted with a surprising urgency as he met her gazes.

“You do?” She asked. Her voice was almost embarrassingly vulnerable and she kicked herself for being so reliant on his continued presence.

“Of course. From what we know the area is particularly volatile and it would be prudent that I accompany you, especially considering that you’re already injured.” He assured, nodding to the area of her suit which was noticeably raised where it covered the bandages.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.” She paused, weighing out the benefit of giving him a metaphorical out against her desperate need to have him nearby. “You don’t have to come, if you don’t want.”

Danse frowned, bringing his gaze to hers instantly. “Is it that you would prefer to go alone?”

“No-I just....” Nora sighed, shaking her head as she tried to verbalize all the thoughts jostling around her mind. “I would understand if you didn’t wish to accompany me. I know I crossed a line, and I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

_Might as well just rip the band-aid off._

He froze, appearing at a loss for words at her indirect acknowledgment of the kiss and she felt instantly like she was going to be sick. Though to be fair, she realized that could be in large part from her liquid dinner the night before.

“I gave you my word that I would accompany you, wherever our mission should lead.” Nora sucked in a quick breath at his assurance, her mind warring with itself as to what such a heartfelt promise actually meant to him.

She nod briefly and looked own at her PipBoy, opening the map, thoroughly determined to avoid any further discussion of the matter. “It’s going to be along walk... You sure you want to be running around without your armor?”

“If we were to return to Cambridge, word of our presence would undoubtedly make it back to Maxson and it would only inspire further scrutiny of our mission.” He explained, his even tone only barely masking the severity of the claim.

“Understood.” She stated quietly, clearing her throat as she pushed open the door to the hotel, wincing at the offensive brightness overhead.

“Have you eaten anything yet today?” He prodded, looking around the empty square.

“Hmm? Oh. No, I’m not hungry.” She assured as she noticed his worried expression. “I don’t think I can keep anything down at the moment.”

“Are you ill?” Danse demanded, turning to her in an instant.

“No.” _I’m just hungover as fuck._ Nora cleared her throat and forced a faint smile to her face. “Just not hungry at the moment. I’ll eat something after we hit the road. Promise.”

The words seemed to sooth Danse, even if only slightly as he followed behind her without another word.

Their journey was awkwardly quiet, only mitigated by the music she’d turned on almost immediately after they’d left Goodneighbor. But blessedly, any of the wasteland’s usual hostilities seemed absent, whether it was because they were still sleeping at the early hour or that the universe was just looking out for them that morning, she didn’t dare to think.

Neither of them tried to break the silent stalemate they’d found themselves in, a fact which was more than a relief as she was determined to avoid speaking about her embarrassing rejection ever again.

She should have felt guilty for kissing him, she knew, but she didn’t. It didn’t feel like a betrayal to Nate, it had felt natural and second nature, and all she wanted was to felt his lips against hers once more. If anything, she felt guilty about how _not_ guilty she was.

Except that she had apparently made Danse uncomfortable with her unrequited affection, even if he was determined to still support her with finding her son. It was useless to try and sort out her emotions regarding the matter, but she was content to have him in her corner nonetheless.

It had taken them six painfully boring hours to reach Jamaica Plains, but as soon as she saw the settlement, it was as if every ounce of blood was replaced with ice water. The entire settlement had been burned to the ground, even the stone buildings having been destroyed in the obvious raid.

Nora moved forward as if possessed, not even registering anything beyond the blackened shack in the distance. Her mind could only picture the young girl she’d seen running around outside the building the last time she was there, the child’s giddy laughter still echoing in her ears as she saw the scorched grey door. The breath caught in her throat as she pushed inside, scanning the small room that had once been a home with her hopeless plea falling on dead ears.

It was the charred teddy bear on the floor that finally broke her and she collapsed onto the floor in an instant, reaching for the destroyed plush toy. She could feel hot, angry tears streaking down her face as she clutched the bear to her chest.

“Nora? Nora! What’s wrong?” Danse demanded, dropping next to her immediately.

“Sandra.” She stated distantly, her eyes glued to the small bed in the corner. It didn’t feel like her voice, but someone else’s, like someone who was so heartbreakingly empty. “This was her bear. She couldn’t have been more than six... I-I failed them.”

“What are you talking about? What happened here isn’t your fault.” He insisted, hesitating momentarily as he reached his hand out to grasp her shoulder.

“Yeah, Danse... This is absolutely my fault.” Nora admitted, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I got them killed.”

“How can that possibly be true?” He pressed, reaching up to cup her face and bring her eyes to his own.

“I-” She started, the words catching in her throat. Before she could elaborate, the door creaked open behind them.

“General?” The familiar voice broke across the room just as she heard footsteps peppering the shack floor. Her eyes shot up, a sense of relief filling her chest as she looked up to see Preston clear the entryway.

“General?” Danse interjected, dropping his hand at the question.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. A little intamcy (as a treat) and then a fuck ton of angst.


	34. Train Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Ya know you train, train  
> To be a soldier at war  
> It was a game, game  
> Ah but that was before  
> We heard the bang, bang  
> And then it started to change'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry about this one. 
> 
> They took on a life of their own. I did not want this to happen.

Nora froze, faltering under Danse’s gaze as he watched her with a piercing intensity. Preston appeared to sense the inherent tension of the situation and cleared his throat only briefly before disappearing back out of the door without a word.

“I can explain-” She started urgently.

“General? As in the General of the Minutemen?” He demanded as she scanned her face.

Nora sighed, only briefly relaxing her grip on the teddy bear in her arms. “Yeah... About that... It kinda just happened.”

“That does not seem like the sort of thing that ‘just happens’.” He maintained, meeting her eyes quickly in a way that only gutted her further. Danse let out a forced sigh, shaking his head immediately. “I suppose it should not be a surprise that _you_ of all people would be able to rouse the Minutemen from their embers.”

“I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” She admitted, staring at a miraculously unscathed portion of the carpet in the far corner.

“I don’t know why you feel you have to keep anything from me, Nora.” He stated tersely, frowning as he continued in a more neutral tone.“I’m aware that I’m not the most...” He let out a frustrated sigh before continuing. “I know that I’m not _good_ at these sort of things, but I can assure you of my loyalty to you... There’s no question.”

The words burned her in a way she hadn’t expected and she let out an angry scoff. “Don’t say shit like that.” She bit, clenching the bear back against her chest.

“Excuse me?” He questioned, instantly drawing back from her as if she’d struck him.

“Don’t say shit like that, you don’t...” _Don’t say shit you don’t mean_ _._ She let out a quick breath, her anger instantly disappearing as she noticed his worried expression. “It just... Just, never mind... It’s not important.”

“I see... Well, are there any more of your _activities_ that I am not aware of?” He asked, and despite the neutrality of his tone, Nora knew he was masking his rising anger about being left out of the loop on yet another one of her deceptions.

“No, actually... I think that’s it.” Nora murmured, looking down at the half-melted eyes of the teddy bear with a grimace, the tears welling up in her eyes once more. Before she could stop herself, the words were pouring out of her. “Sandra tried to give me this bear, the last time I was here. She said Mr. Bear wanted to join the Minutemen, but I told her she needed him to keep her safe... And now she’s probably dead.”

“This isn’t your fault, Nora.” He urged, gentling gripping her wrists as she clung to the bear. “You are not responsible for every tragedy that befalls the people of the wasteland.”

“I should have made them leave-” She objected, staring at the burned plush in her hands as her throat went tight, squeezing back any other words.

“Would they have left?” He interrupted, reaching his hand out and gently pressing it against her cheek. Nora looked up in shock at the contact, meeting his gaze.

“I...No.” She breathed, daring herself to lean into the comforting warmth of his hand, welcoming the closeness. “I tried to get them to go to Sanctuary... But they wouldn’t go.”

“Then you did you did everything you could.” Danse maintained as she shook her head at the assurance, not allowing herself the kindness of believing such a claim.

Danse slowly rubbed his thumb against her cheek, drawing her attention back to him instead of her racing thoughts.

“Why are you so determined to blame yourself for this?” He insisted, scanning her face as if the answers were buried just below the surface.

Maybe they were, she thought, hidden under a thousand pounds of self hatred and fear that he seemed so adept at stripping away.

“Because I should have done more. I-I could have built better defenses. I could have stationed more Minutemen down here. I should have done _something_ more. I knew they were vulnerable and I just-” She rambled, clutching the bear to her chest as if the vice grip could bring them back. “I can’t save anyone. It’s always too late... _I’m_ always too late.”

The words had fallen from her lips, an angry and desolate admittance of her profound failure. She looked away, no longer wanting to bear witness to the warm eyes that regarded her with far more tenderness than she deserved.

“You are not responsible the entire fate of the Commonwealth, Nora.” Danse assured, his voice marked by the rare display of his profound empathy.

“No, but I was responsible for them... It was my job to keep this place safe. To protect this family. To protect this _child_.” She choked out the word, failing to stifle the panicked gasp of breath as she remembered the Sandra’s bright blue eyes. The eyes that had stared up at her as Nora had shared stories about her travels around the campfire after their dinner. The eyes that had been so wide with wonder as Sandra had asked her a million questions about the Minutemen and if she could join them when she was older.

‘I would be honored to have you, Lieutenant Sandra’ was what Nora had said, causing the girl’s giddy laugh to echo, the pleasant sound heard all around the settlement.

Nora could feel the pressure in her throat grow tighter as the burning tears streamed down her face once more. Her face felt numb as she gasped hopelessly for breath, the heavy weight of sudden panic settling around her chest as she felt her fingers go numb from hyperventilation. She barely registered that Danse had dropped his hand from her face, until she felt him pull her toward him, his arms hesitantly circling her shoulders as she allowed herself to collapse against him.

“I’m here.” He whispered against her head, bringing his arms tighter around her waist as she felt the sobs pour out of her, wracking her entire body.

*

It was a terrifying sight, to say the least. While Danse had seen her in tears before, there was something achingly hopeless about seeing Nora absolutely let herself completely break down. He suspected that it had only been a matter of time until she allowed herself the chance to implode under the weight of her struggles.

It wasn’t normal, nor was it healthy for a single person to keep taking on responsibility without so much as a moment to actually feel the brunt of the trauma they’d experienced. That wasn’t even taking into account the additional heartbreak she’d gone through by being tossed into a future she’d never wanted without a single chance to object to such displacement.

It was a matter of catharsis.

In all honesty, Danse had grown all the more worried about her with every passing day. Achingly afraid of what would happen when her steadfast repression of emotion finally got the best of her. She had kept almost everyone at a distance, seemingly finding solace in the feigned confident persona she’d maintained.

He could feel her shaky, rapid gasps as she leaned into him, burying her face against his chest. Every fiber of his being ached with sadness as she wept, as if he could feel the agony of her soul.

It broke his heart.

Danse had heard of the terminology before, as a young soldier tearing through every piece of literature n the Brotherhood’s archives. At the time it had seemed a fanciful and unrealistic notion. He’d even gone so far as to chastise Cutler for his belief in such a thing.

But in that moment, listening to Nora’s broken sobs, he felt suddenly ignorant for dismissing the idea. The sensation was indescribable, unable to be properly articulated within the confines of the human language, but the phrase seemed to be about as accurate as he could hope for.

Nora moved closer to him, reaching to clutch the fabric of his jumpsuit over his chest, the other still clutching the child’s teddy bear to her chest. He quickly readjusted, allowing her to rest against him as he settled into a seated position with her on the floor.

“I’m here with you...” Danse reassured, though he faintly thought that the words were redundant in nature. He tried to comfort her with them nonetheless, slowly rubbing small circles against her back. There was something familiar and comforting about the motion that he couldn’t quite place, as if he’d seen it before. As strange as the motion was, it seemed to sooth her slightly, her gasps slowing by the minute.

“You don’t have to bear this burden alone.” He promised, determined to offer her whatever solace she needed for as long as he could.

It was several long minutes before her breaths evened out, almost resuming their normal pace. Nora was motionless against him, taking several slow inhales as she appeared to gradually regain her composure. She looked up at him with jolt, her eyes going wide as she met his gaze.

“I’m so sorry. Jesus that’s... Fuck I’m sorry for dumping all that on you.” She rushed, leaning away abruptly at the statement.

It was by shameful reflex that he pulled her back toward him, not willing to sacrifice the comfort of having her in his arms

“Stop.” He begged, the words escaping before he could halt them outright. Danse closed his eyes with a sigh, attempting to regain his composure before continuing. “Please stop fighting me.”

“What?” She demanded, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

“It’s clear that you’re... struggling. I assure you, what you’re feeling... I want you to know that it’s not something you have to try and conceal from me.” He confessed, noting how Nora tensed at the words before slowly relaxing back against him.

The feeling was worth more than chromium.

“Okay.” She croaked, her voice cracking as she spoke, looking up at him. “I don’t know why you’ve stuck around as long as you have... I’m a mess.”

_Because I’d set myself on fire at the slightest chance to keep you safe._

“You’re allowed to be.” He offered gently, resuming where he had been rubbing small circles against her back.

Nora let out a quick sad laugh, dropping her hand from his chest in an instant. “Yeah. Maybe I am... Thank you.”

“Of course.” He assured, noting how she took a slow inhale at the word that sounded so much more akin to a promise, before nodding.

“I suppose I should see what the hell Preston needs now.” She mumbled, almost more to herself then him.

The thought of having her gallivant off into more danger terrified him, but he knew better than to try and stop her. “Are you sure?”

Nora forced a sad smile to her face as she pulled away. “I don’t have a choice... I can’t in good conscious let anyone else suffer while I sit around moping, can I?”

“You’re _allowed_ to grieve.” She hesitated at that, turning her achingly sad eyes up meet his own.

“Maybe, but there’s no use in feeling anything but pissed the _fuck_ off about what happened here...” She let out an angry laugh, her eyes going narrow as she looked to the floor with a sudden inconsolable rage, anger radiating off of her in waves. “I’m going to find the bastards that did this and they’ll regret ever looking twice at this place.”

“I have no doubt.” He confirmed, regretting the sudden absence of her at his side as she moved to stand.

Nora let out a slow breath, moving to place the small bear into her pack from where she had dropped it earlier with a sad smile. The gesture alone revealed to Danse more about the inner workings of her mind than anything she could ever say.

The woman before him was filled with so much compassion for the world and burdened by the indisputable rage at the severe mistreatment of humanity. Who held on to a sliver of hope so strong that she would keep a child’s toy on the off chance they should ever meet again or even just in her memory.

She slung the pack back over her shoulder and nodded to the doorway as he stood, her expression steeled as she exited the shack.

_The calm before the storm._

He followed her wordlessly, spotting the small group gathered at the edge of the former settlement. He only recognized Preston and the mercenary Nora had with her on one of her previous visits to Cambridge, but he couldn’t recall the man’s name for the life of him.

“Mac? What are you doing here, kid?” Nora asked, moving to bring the younger man into a quick hug that he awkwardly returned.

_Well that answers that... MacCready._

“We heard about what happened here from Carla. Said it was burned to the ground... I hoped it wasn’t true.” He offered, glancing back at Preston who was shaking his head as he looked at the destruction of what had once been a home to over half a dozen settlers.

“This is exactly why we need to take back the Castle.” Preston asserted, turning to the man next to him immediately. “Sturges, you think that you and Athena can get the old radio tower up and working?”

“Maybe, but there’s no way we can do it without alerting half the Commonwealth before we’d get the place fortified.” He answered, shooting a quick look the the small woman standing behind him, her long black hair pulled into a braid.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” Nora interjected, turning to Preston immediately.

“I was wanting to talk to you about that actually. Even before this, but it never seemed like the right time.” Preston explained, his gaze landing on Danse for a moment longer than necessary before he looked back to Nora.

“No time like the present.” She answered slowly, her eyes darting to the young woman seeming to hide behind Struges.

“The Minutemen used to have a base. We called it the Castle. Unfortunately, we lost it a few years back, and with our dwindling numbers, didn’t have the resources to reclaim it... That is, until now.” He elaborated, looking to MacCready who was clearly trying very hard not to get involved in the discussion.

“I see. Listen, Preston. If you think this is our next step, let’s do it.... Especially after what happened here.” She let out a shaky breath before continuing, her voice rife with anger. “This is... unacceptable. There’s no reason these people had to die.”

“Agreed.” Preston reassured, still eyeing Danse as if he expected the man to interject.

“This was Gunners.” MacCready added suddenly, drawing the groups attention. He pointed toward the scorched shack in the distance. “Probably some of Wilkin’s bunch. This is there M.O. Kill everyone and burn the place to the ground... Think of it as their version of a warning shot.”

“Despicable.” Danse blurted, bringing his eyebrows together as he scanned the carnage.

“Can’t say I disagree.” Preston murmured, shaking his head and looking away from the former home.

“Yeah...New addition?” Nora prodded quickly, nodding to the woman seeming to you Sturges as a shield, obviously eager to change the topic of conversation.

“Ah, forgive me.” Preston rushed, turning to the pair as he spoke. “This is Athena... she’s Sturges _sister._ ”

Danse narrowed his eyes at the emphasis that the other members of the group seemed to interpret as bearing some further meaning. It did not appear that the man Sturges bore any sort of resemblance to the woman who appeared to be of Asian decent, but he knew that the term sister could be coined to mean various things.

“I see.” Nora cleared her throat, extending her hand to the other woman. “Nice to meet you Athena.”

“Ma’am.” Athena offered quietly, staring at the outstretched arm with apprehension.

As if sensing the other woman’s hesitation, Nora slowly dropped her hand back to her side. “Nora works just fine for me.”

“Nora. Sorry ma’am-Nora.” Athena rushed, shaking her head as she spoke.

“Sorry ‘bout that General. She’s only been in the Commonwealth for a few weeks after coming up with family.” Sturges offered, watching as Preston seemed to relax at his words.

“Understood. So, how far is this Castle? And more importantly, are we going to rescue the princess?” Nora stated. smiling to herself at the joke that only she seemed to understand.

“It’s a bit north of here. It used to be an old military fort, long before the war.” Preston explained, indicating their intended direction.

“Fort Independence?” She asked, sucking in a quick breath at the question.

“That’s the one.” The Minuteman confirmed.

Nora nodded only slightly before turning to Danse with a frown. “Are we good to take a couple more days before heading back to Cambridge?”

“Elder Maxson is under the impression you’re spending time in Diamond City until week’s end.” Danse reassured, scanning her face as she relaxed at his words.

“Thank you.” She offered softly, meeting his eyes with the breathtakingly fond expression that he was slowly coming to recognize as one that she only offered him.

MacCready cleared his throat, apparently the only one in the party bored enough at the exchange to interrupt the tender moment. “Hey boss. How about we head out before the bas- _crew_ that did this come back?”

“They’re not coming back.” Nora spat, her furious tone painting her statement into a warning as she pointed to the shack. “The bastards that did this. _This._ They’re cowards. They’d never come back with all of us here.”

“A man who stoops so low as to massacre a family begging for mercy is not a man at all.” Danse stated, shaking his head as he truly took in the carnage of the scene.

Preston nodded, his face solemn as he looked around. “I don’t disagree, but MacCready has a point. We should head out, unless you want to try to take back the Castle in the dead of night.”

Nora wrinkled her nose at the thought ans sighed, shooting a final look to the ruins of the once happy settlement before starting off where Preston had indicated. “Valid point. Let’s get this over with.”

*

_Of course it had to be fucking Mirelurks._

Nora could feel the sticky, rancid blood seeping through her flight suit, the smell making her gag as she made her way down the worn stone staircase, glaring at the carcass of the Mirelurk that she was confidant was bigger than her old house in Sanctuary.

The crowd of people rushing toward her as she made her down the stairs was a ridiculous enough site, but she had to admit that it was comforting to see that her friends cared about her.

“I’m _fine_ , unless you could the horrible feeling of Mirelurk blood seeping into my shoes... That’s pretty fucking offensive.” She complained, rolling her eyes as she met Danse’s worried expression. “Everyone else make it through alright?”

“Athena got a pretty nasty scrape, but Sturges is looking out for her... She’s not used to this sort of thing.” Preston volunteered, shooting the pair a glance from where they sat next to the abandoned radio station, barely visible save for the familiar flicker of the lantern’s light.

“Yeah. I remember the feeling.” Nora answered wistfully, remembering how hopeless she’d felt after her first bonafide fight in the Commonwealth.

“Are you quite certain you’re alright?” Danse pressed, his gaze shooting to her previous injury.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I took a couple rounds for my dumb ass squad mate? I’m fine.” She insisted, wiggling her arm despite the aching of pain that shot through her at the movement. “This is nothing compare to that.”

“I don’t believe you shared such a story with me.” Danse answered, his tone falling somewhere between surprise and disapproval.

“Let’s crack open a bottle of something alcoholic and you can share the story with all of us.” MacCready interrupted with an amused glance.

“How about I change before we have story time with Nora?” She quipped, failing to fight the smirk that was teasing at her lips at the comment.

_I don’t particularly want the Mirelurk blood to soak down to my underwear._ _That not a experience I need in my life._

“I’ll hold you to that, boss... ‘Sides you still owe me about fifty caps” MacCready offered with a smug smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d kick your ass half way back to the the Capitol.” She warned, watching as Preston failed to muffle his chuckle at the comment.

“I’m not cute-” The mercenary tried to interject.

“Like a puppy.” Nora answered, trying to to stifle her own laughter at the indignant look the other man gave her. “No wonder Dogmeat likes you so much.”

“I hate you.” MacCready mumbled, shooting her a derisive glare as her turned and started to walk away.

“I’m your unofficial wasteland mom, that’s to be expected.” She called, only further amused by his stubborn objections.

“Paladin, how about we check the perimeter while the General gets cleaned up?” Preston interrupted, clearly sensing her mounting irritation at the sticky blood coagulating against her skin.

“I... I suppose that would be wise.” Danse agreed, looking to her as if asking permission for such a thing.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Nora promised, grabbing her pack and a lantern from the ground, offering a brief wave as the men turned away from her.

She found the dwindling bar of soap she’d swiped from Fallons at the bottom of her bag, along with the bottle of Rad-X that she knew she’d need, and retrieved them both.

It was vapid, she knew, to be so concerned with things like scented soap when the world had went to hell in a hand basket, but the faint aroma of vanilla and lavender that the bar of Milton’s still miraculously had was one of the few things that comforted her in the wasteland. Even if bathing in the Charles River was not exactly a luxury.

The salted, murky stench of rotting Mirelurk innards would be enough to make her lose her meager lunch of Radstag jerky and mutfruit if she didn’t get herself cleaned up.

Nora quickly laid out a towel next to the clean flight suit on the shore and checked the exterior of the Castle to make sure none of her fellow Minutemen would happen up her as she stripped down to her underwear. Not that she thought they’d see anything in the darkness, but she didn’t necessarily want to deal with whatever awkward conversation that would inspire.

After confirming that she was in fact alone, she peeled the sticky fabric of her flight suit away from her skin, gagging at the sound of the blood soaked garments as they sploshed to the ground.

She quickly slipped into the water, roughly scrubbing her skin clean of the slime and blood coating her from head to toe. While the soap was far more abrasive than any sort of shampoo she’d used before the war, it lathered up well enough to get at least a portion of the grime out of her hair, which she was more than relieved for.

There was something strangely soothing about bathing in the river and she almost laughed at the thought. Never in a million years would she ever have imagined herself skinny dipping in the Charles River behind Fort Independence, much less enjoying it. Even the slight sting of irradiated water couldn’t take away from the pleasure of the experience.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The familiar voice demanded, thee tone incredulous.

_Of course he would be the one to find me here. Karma really is a bitch today._

Nora quickly cleared her throat and turned to face Danse. The horrified look on his face was a source of amusement, at least, and she couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on her lips. “I told you, I was going to get cleaned up.”

“In _that?_ ” He asked, his eyebrows drawn together in disapproval.

“Uh, yeah.” She offered, relieved that it was late enough that the water and darkness of night covered her exposed body.

“Have you taken leave of your sense?” He urged, looking over her shoulder momentarily before turning back to her.

“You keep asking me that, Danse. I thought you’d know the answer to that question by now.” Nora quipped, unable to fight the amused tone that crept into her words. “Would you believe me if I actually told you that it’s sort of nice?”

“No.” Danse stated dryly, his concerned expression lit by the light of the lantern, casting orange shadows across his features.

“You should try it.” She offered, half hoping the implication of her words were lost on him. But, after the stress of the day she couldn’t be bothered to care if they weren’t.

He hesitated only briefly before answering, his tone frustratingly controlled. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Fine.You can walk around smelling like Mirelurk all night for all I care.” Nora shrugged, fully expecting him to walk away and let her finish washing herself.

But instead, Danse frowned, looking down at his own flight suit as if considering her words. “It would be reckless to intentionally expose myself to unnecessary radiation.”

“It’s a shame they don’t make a medication for that or anything.” She replied flippantly, watching as he looked over to her from where she was floating, the water just above her shoulders. The fact that he seemed to be actually evaluating the merits of joining her only encouraged her taunts and she couldn’t help but press the matter. “Come on, haven’t you ever gone swimming before?”

“I... ” He paused, then looked away from her abruptly, his tone recomposed into cool professionalism. “Not for many years, no.”

She rolled her eyes as she noticed his apprehensive expression as he shot her a quick glance. “Let me guess. It would be inappropriate in the eyes of the Brotherhood?”

“Undoubtedly.” He confirmed, turning back to her cautiously, as if expecting her derision.

“And we both know how you feel about not acting _inappropriately._ ” Nora bit, the words coming out harsher than she’d intended. She hadn’t meant to say them at all, but the burn of being rejected the previous night by in the name of Brotherhood procedure was still a fresh wound to her ego.

Danse let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head as he spoke. “That’s hardly fair-” 

“I’m going to finish washing up. So in the interest of acting _appropriately_ , you might want to leave.” She snapped,turning her back to him as she lifted her arm from the water to scrub at the scabbed over laceration he’d bandaged just the previous night.

“ _Nora_.” He pleaded, his voice a firm warning. Against what, she wasn’t sure.

“Just...” She let out a frustrated sigh,refusing to look back at him. “I just need a few minutes here, okay?”

The retreat of footsteps was her only indication that he had obliged and when she looked back to the empty shoreline she felt suddenly, painfully alone.

*

Danse paced the length of the courtyard anxiously, hopelessly trying to sort out his racing thoughts. The group they had travelled to the Castle with were all standing around chatting in the center of the base, no one so much as attempting to the area outside the walls.

He tried not to scoff at how tactically disadvantageous it was to have all of their forces crowded around in one location, with no one watching the perimeter. Though to be fair, he had _tried_ to walk the exterior of the base, before stumbling upon Nora.

It was useless to try and interpret anything when it came to her. As soon as she would offer up a part of herself, to allow him to see a fraction of her vulnerability, she’d just as quickly try to take back any semblance of control.

But where he had expected her to reel away from him, to chalk what had happened back in Goodneighbor up to a miscommunication, she seemed to continue pushing the boundaries, as if testing to see how far she could go. A terrified part of him wondered if it was just a game to her, if she was just taunting him to see his reaction, but that seemed antithetic to everything he knew about her.

Nora was not a cruel person, at least not to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. It only left the ever more alarming possibility that her affection was genuine, and not a matter of miscommunication or amusement.

Danse was even less sure how to deal with that fact; that she apparently held any sort of romantic interest in him left him in a state of absolute disbelief.

Surely she was just confused, he reasoned. The emotional trauma of what she had been through caused her to misplace a certain level of appreciation that she was just confusing for something more. He was certain that if he allowed himself to act on his own feelings for her that she would ultimately come to the realization that she regarded him exclusively as a friend and regret ever entertaining the idea of caring for him in such a way.

The thought was an unwelcome one, to say the least. Because he knew that he would give in to her given the opportunity, even knowing that she might change her mind down the line and leave. That alone would destroy him worse than any bomb or grenade ever could.

He looked up, spotting the familiar orange fabric as Nora passed the crumbling entry to Fort Independence, clutching her arm as she rushed to the group of Minutemen seated at the radio station in the center of the courtyard.

“Any luck getting it up and running?” She asked, turning to Sturges quickly.

“Almost all set, thanks to this one here.” He answered, pointing to the nervous young woman next to him. “Athena is a master with this tech.”

“Thank God.” Nora breathed, looking up as Danse started toward them. “Hey, did you have a chance to check out the holotape Nick brought up a few days ago?”

“Yeah... About that...” Sturges stated awkwardly, clearly not wanting to entertain the topic.

“Shit. What is it?” She urged, her eyes wide with worry.

“Listen, you know how we feel about who should have this information, but-” Preston started, looking back at Danse quickly.

“The time it would take for use to collect the materials alone could be months, that’s not even counting the construction time.” Sturges added, frowning at the words.

“What are you saying?” Nora prodded, her tone short and insistent.

Preston let out a long sigh, shooting a quick glance to Sturges before explaining“We all agreed that as much as we don’t prefer the idea, you’ve done so much to save us all, and... The Brotherhood of Steel is probably your best bet to getting this thing built sometime before next year.”

“That’s outstanding.” Danse interjected proudly, relieved that they would at least have something to show for their alleged missions over the past couple months.

“Yeah, sure. Give the Brotherhood of Bigots more power, that’ll go over great for the rest of us.” MacCready interjected, shaking his head as he moved to light the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Pardon me, _civilian_ , but I hardly think the analysis of an unscrupulous mercenary warrants any consideration on such a crucial matter.” Danse grated, turning to look at the younger man with a glare that could freeze hell.

“Oh yeah? Because you Brotherhood guys are so great yourselves.” MacCready bit sarcastically, returning Danse’s hateful scowl and jutting out his chin stubbornly. “The only difference here is I’m at least honest about how I make my living. Tell me, how long ‘till you sacrifice Nora here for your mission?”

“How _dare_ you even imply-”

“That’s _enough_ , you too!” Nora ordered, her tone authoritative and final. She stepped between them, turning to look at Danse as she firmly placing her hand on his chest. “Let it go. We have the tape, that’s the important thing.”

“It is abhorrent that he would even suggest-”

“Danse.” She urged, softening her hand against him, the gesture achingly tender. “I know you would never put my life in jeopardy.”

Danse could feel himself relax at her assurance, instinctively reaching to place his hand over her own, still on his chest as he met her eyes.

“Yeah, okay.” MacCready mumbled behind them, glaring at the apparent affection between them. Nora spun toward him, yanking her hand back and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Mac how about you go check the perimeter for us? I’d consider it a personal favor if you made sure we didn’t get ambushed by anything out there while we’re all crowded around like fish in a barrel.” She instructed, the questions wholly rhetorical given the blatant frustration in her tone.

The mercenary shot Danse an irritated look before marching off toward the entrance of the fort without a word.

“I should join him.” Preston offered with a tense smile before jogging to catch up with the other man.

Sturges cleared his throat, interruption the awkward tension that had settled around them and extended the holotape toward them. “Here you go, General.”

“Thanks, Sturges. You’re a life saver.” She mumbled, quickly grabbing the faded orange cartridge.

“No ma’am, I believe that honor is all yours.” He answered, looking to Danse as he continued. “You guys be careful out there, alright?”

“Affirmative. The Brotherhood trains all of it’s soldiers to exercise the utmost caution.” Danse affirmed, looking toward Nora who was absent mindely clutching her shoulder again.

Almost all of it’s soldier exercise the utmost caution.

She looked up, as if sensing his gaze on her and dropping her hand. “I’m fine-”

He frowned at her objections. It was clearly bothering her and he was determined to assure it was not infected. “It would be prudent for you to allow me to inspect the injury, particular since you’ve taken up the habit of bathing in irradiated water-”

“I would hardly say it’s a habit-”

“Nora.” He insisted, watching as she rolled her eye at him and acquiesced to his request.

“ _Fine._ ” She complained, nodding to the entry way behind her. “I’m pretty sure I saw a med kit inside.”

Danse watched as she stomped away, shooting an apologetic glance to where Sturges was standing, a horrified Athena seated next to him.

_This woman is going to be the death of me._

Nora plopped herself down on a large wooden crate, pointing to the medical kit affixed to the wall. “Since you want to play doctor so much, go right ahead.”

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for having a vested interest in maintaining your health.” He answered plainly, not wanting to give into her apparent irritation despite his own growing frustration.

She let out a scoff, shaking her head at the words. “And what sort of vested interest is that?”

Danse almost dropped the medical kit as soon as he’d grabbed it, suddenly standing frozen in place. He let out a quick breath, slowly turning to face her where she sat, her face composed and distance as she scanned his expression.

“Forget it.” She complained, undoing the buckles on her suit and rolling it down to her waist, leaving her in yet another undershirt that Danse thought was far too form fitting to allow him to actually focus on tending to her injury.

He worked silently, not sure how to broach the topic that Nora seemed both desperate to have and determined not to entertain.

Fortunately, the wound appeared to be healing as anticipated, and save for the slight scare she’d undoubtedly have, it was unlikely that she’d have any extenuating problems from the wound.

“The laceration appears to be progressing as expected. Given the assumption that you will avoid any further interactions with super mutants or detonation in the next few days, you should have no lasting ramifications from the incident.” Danse rattled, recalling the medical training he’d received upon his initiation with the Brotherhood. The familiar jargon was comforting, because he knew the rules of the conversation and what to expect. “The Brotherhood can officially clear you for field work.”

Nora tensed at his words and looked away, her tone bitingly sarcastic. “Thanks a bunch, Paladin. You’re a real asset as a sponsor.”

_That was certainly not covered in training._

“Nora.”

“Oh no. I think it’s Knight Hartt, right? We want to be professional, after all. Wouldn’t want daddy Maxson thinking anything inappropriate was going on here.” She answered, moving to stand as he dropped his hands to his sides. “I need to go make sure Sturges got the radio-”

“How can you possibly say that?” Danse snapped, standing with a start. He could feel the frustration building in his chest, the echo of his racing pulse pounding in his ears as he looked at met her stubborn gaze. “How can you maintain only a few minutes ago that you know I have your best interests in mind only to turn around and imply that I don’t?” Nora looked up at him in surprise, her angry expression waving at his sudden outburst. “Have I not proven to you how far I’m willing to compromise my loyalty to the Brotherhood for you?”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as she looked away, her shoulders drooping at his words appeared to take affect, and was quiet for several long moments. “You’re right, Danse. I’m being... petty. You’ve done more for me than I could even ask and far more than I deserve.”

“I hardly believe that’s true.” He countered, frowning as he tried to process her words.

“It is. I guess I’ve never done well with rejection.” Nora let out a sad laugh, finally looking back up at him, her eyes achingly distance. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass to you for absolutely no reason.”

“You think...” Danse closed his eyes at the realization of exactly why she was angry. “I’m your sponsor, Nora-”

“I am _begging_ you not to put me through this conversation again.” She groaned, looking down to the floor.

“No, that’s not what I meant... Please allow me the chance to explain.” He urged, gently grasping her shoulders. “If Elder Maxson were to have the impression that something inappropriate were occurring between a a sponsor and their initiate, both parties would be stripped of their rank and removed from the Brotherhood. If that were to happen, you would not have our extensive resources at your disposal and it could compromise your chances of infiltrating the Institute and finding your son. That is not something I’m willing to risk.”

_I’m not willing to risk your happiness or your family for my own selfish desires._

Nora let out a quick sigh, her glance burning a metaphorical hole into the ground as she intently avoided his gaze. “I understand, Danse. Thank you for looking out.”

“I gave you my word. We’re going to get Shaun back, Nora.” He promised, hating himself for inspiring the loneliness in her eyes as she nodded, forcing an empty smile to her lips as she stepped away from him.

“Thank you.” She answered quickly, swallowing as she nodded to the doorway. “I still need to go see if they got the radio broadcast up yet.”

He watched as she rushed out the doorway, seemingly desperate to get away from him, her absence inspiring an agonizingly hollow sensation to take residence in his chest.

_It’s for the best. Once she get’s Shaun back she’ll realize that she was simply confused... And if by some miracle she still wanted - Well, it’s better not to think about that..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Castle Fight or the Mac/Pres heart to heart might be tomorrow....
> 
> OR Sturges'/Prestons covo about the holotape.. maybemaybe


	35. Rhythm For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these idiots... but they are so dumb

It was almost uncanny how quickly settlers began flocking to the Castle after Sturges and Athena had got the radio broadcast up and running. Where the ruins of Fort Independence had seemed imposing and empty only a few hours before, it seemed abuzz with life as stragglers and former Minutemen flocked to what they could only define as 'home'. Nora had put on the brave, confident face she learned after years of taking beat calls and greeted each new arrival with ease. It was almost comforting, if not for the dull ache in her chest that reminded her of exactly how uncertain and cowardly she really was.

She considered running, after the conversation with Danse, truly weighing her options as she had the burning desire to get as far away from the bitter sting of rejection pressing against her ego twice in two days. It didn’t make sense. He seemed to be the master of mixed signals, holding her in his arms and asserting his loyalty to her, only to maintain that things between them were perfectly platonic.

He didn’t kiss her like things were just platonic, she thought, to say the least. But to hear the flimsy excuse that it could jeopardize their position with the Brotherhood was absolute bullshit. She had the first true lead into the Institute, there was no way in hell they would do anything to jeopardize that. Even an arrogant asshole like Maxson wouldn’t risk such a significant chance at bringing the Institute down for the sake of something as minor as alleged fraternization.

For the second time that night, she thought about running back to the Railroad and turning over the holotape to Tom. Surely he of all people could figure out how to get the thing built.

Nora checked the courtyard carefully, relieved that no one seemed to be watching her as she slipped out of the fort and past the guards standing duty.

_Apparently all those stealth missions with the Railroad weren’t so useless after all._

She paced the outside perimeter of the Castle for several minutes, but even that didn’t feel far enough away from the crushing burden of responsibility waiting for her within the fort’s walls.

While a part of her knew she shouldn’t stray too far from the activity without any armor, she couldn’t quite bring herself to deal with all the expectant faces waiting for her and quickly headed away from the place. It didn’t matter where she was headed, not really.

The chilled night air was a blessing, allowing her the chance to sort out her thoughts about everything as she walked. By the time she made it to a rickety picnic bench along the shore of the bay, the Castle was far enough behind her that she felt like she could actually breath.

Nora settled onto the worn top of the table, watching the waves rolling in against the shore as she toyed with the chain around her neck. She quietly pulled the chain over her head, tracing the engraving inside the set of rings with her finger.

“Hey Nate... I feel stupid talking to an old wedding ring, but I’m too much of a coward to go and visit your grave anymore.” She started, clearing her throat as she looked down at the faded gold band. “We have a way into the Institute, it’s probably my best chance to find Shaun, even if I could very well spontaneously combust as soon as they power the damn thing up... You were always the smart one, but even I can understand that anything that ‘pulls you apart atom by atom’ is questionable at best. Maybe you’ll see me sooner than you think, honey... I miss you baby. I love you.”

Nora looked up, the sudden sensation of someone watching her drawing her focus as she reached for the pistol strapped to her thigh. When she saw exactly who the intruder was, she half considered pulling the pistol on him just to tech him a lesson about eavesdropping. Deacon raised his hands, recognizable even in the pieced together Minutemen uniform from the familiar pair of sunglasses he seemed to have an endless supply of.

“Woah now, you ought to be careful waving that thing around. Someone could get hurt.” He joked, moving to sit next to her on the table with a dramatic sigh. “You wouldn’t really shoot me now, would you Charms? I didn’t think our date at Bunker Hill went that bad.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” She grumbled, placing the chain back over her head. “Remind me to sneak up on you when you’re talking to your dead loved ones.”

“You really think you could sneak up on me? That’s just hurtful.” Deacon placed his hand firmly against his chest with a pout. “You should know that no one sneaks up on the D-man!”

“I should feed you to Mirelurks just for calling yourself ‘the D-man’.” Nora quipped, trying to read his expression behind the shades. “You don’t usually make your weird stalking habit known unless you want something, so what is it?”

“It’s call super secret spy work in the professional circles, for the record... I _told you this_. It was day one of Death Bunnies orientation!” He objected, the playful tone grating on her nerves even more than usual, given that he had snuck up on her while talking to Nate, of all times.

“Deek I don’t have the time or patience for your bullshit right now.” She snapped, turning to glare at him.

Deacon raised his hands in surrender, his face turning suddenly serious. “All right, so maybe I’m here on official business.”

“Delightful.”

“It’s about the Relay.” He explained, his body going tense as he watched her response.

“Fuck. Of course you know about that.” Nora grumbled, half expecting Desdemona and Glory to appear from out of the shadows to drag her back to HQ.

“Nothing gets past me, Charms... You’re _really_ giving those plans to the Brotherhood? Do you have any idea what that’ll mean for us?” Deacon urged, the air of panicked insistence that was such a stark contrast to his normal flippancy.

Nora let out a heavy sigh, trying to piece together the right words to assuage her guilt about potentially condemning the fates of the Railroad and numerous synths. “The Brotherhood has the right idea. The Institute is an evil fucking organization and they plan to take the fight to them.”

“Sure, but are synths evil?” He countered, cocking his head to watch her carefully.

“Of course not. That..." She let out an angry grunt, trying not to think about what exactly the Brotherhood would do with the information once she got inside. Not that it mattered, not when Shaun was somewhere inside. "That’s not the point.”

“That’s exactly the point here, Charmer.” He bit, moving to stand as he continued. “You give those plans to the Brotherhood of Bigots and you’re risking the lives of dozens of people. Synth and human alike.”

“How long have you really been following me?” Nora snapped, turning her cold, angry gaze to him.

“What?”

She crossed her arms, staring at him with what she could only hope was a convicning scowl. “You heard me. Nothing gets past you.”

Deacon let out a faint sigh, looking down at the shore for a second before answering. “A while.”

“So, longer than Bunker Hill.” Nora accused, kicking herself for not catching what, in retrospect, was an obvious lie.

“Obviously.”

“Tell me Deacon. What is the one thing I’ve been abundantly clear about since I woke up?” She asked sarcastically, a surge of anger welling up in her chest at his continued deception. “What is the one goal I’ve made my intentions absolutely transparent on?”

Deacon let out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. “I can’t let you do this.”

“What? Are you going to stop me?” Nora laughed at the idea, the angry pinched sound echoing across the shore. “No offense, but I don’t think that’ll end well for you.”

“Then there’s something you should know-” He started, his voice tight. It was the first indication of uncertainty she’d ever heard from him, a vulnerability that she hadn’t imagine him capable.

“Deacon...” The familiar voice interrupted, causing Deacon to spin around as Danse stepped closer to them, meeting her eyes instantly. “Nora is there a problem here?”

“No.” She rushed, relieved at his impeccable timing. The glare she shot Deacon caused the man to still completely, his face recomposed into patient indifference. “He was just leaving.”

“Aw Charms, we were just-” He objected, the feigned smarmy persona falling back into place.

“I think you should leave.” Danse insisted, stepping between the pair as he glared down at Deacon.

“You’re going to regret going down this path, Charmer.” Deacon warned, shaking his head in frustration.

“Are you threatening my Knight, civilian?” Danse interjected, the furious tone sending jolt down Nora’s spine that she wasn’t sure how to interpret. “The Brotherhood of Steel takes threats against it’s soldiers very seriously.”

“Don’t worry big guy. I know exactly how serious you are about protecting _your_ _Knight_.” Deacon answered as he turned to walk away from them, apparently finding the matter futile to try and debate.

As Nora watched her fellow Railroad agent disappear into the night, she could feel herself let out the breath she had been apparently holding in anticipation of the mounting tension.

“What was that about?” Danse inquired, shooting a glare in the direction Deacon had slipped away.

“What do you think?” She complained, trying to thoroughly ignore the painful gnawing in her gut from the conflict that she was half certain would come to blows. “Deacon found out about the holotape and our plans for the Relay. He said he couldn’t let me give it to the Brotherhood.”

“Did he threatening you?” He insisted, his dark eyes turning startlingly cold.

“I-I don’t think so.” She rushed, suddenly feeling a warmth bloom in her chest at his apparent need to protect her. _Best not to think about that._ “But thanks for stepping in.”

“If Deacon so much as tries-” Danse started to warn.

“He _won’t_. Besides, I can handle myself.” Nora raised her eyebrow, half daring him to disagree.

“I am well aware of your capabilities, but it’s incredibly dangerous for you to be this far out here without any protection.” He frowned as he looked down at her meager flight suit that would undoubtedly do little to protect her from anything other than the chill of night.

“I have you here, don’t I?” She quipped, a faint smirk teasing at her lips as she stood, checking behind them as if to demonstrate her concern. “Come on. Let’s head back before anyone else sneaks up on us.”

“Agreed.” Danse answered, falling in step behind her instantly, gripping his laser rifle firmly as he scanned the area. “I believe Garvey is setting up some bunks in the east wing of the fort. It might be a good idea to get some rest.”

“Are you saying I look tired?” She challenged, watching as the Castle grew closer over the horizon.

“I... It does appear that a night of sleep might be wise.” He offered with a frown, as if uncertain if the confirmation was the correct answer.

“You really know how to make a girl special, Danse.” She grumbled, rolling her eyes at his sudden shocked expression.

Before he could answer, the sound of a rifle shot ripped through the air over their heads. Nora could barely register the noise before she felt herself being yanked to the ground.

“Stay down!” Danse ordered, scanning the area intently as he dropped down next to her.

“Sorry boss!” The familiar voice hollered in the distance. “Mirelurk behind you!”

“Fuck off, Mac! You did that on purpose!” Nora yelled back at the upper wall of the Castle, flipping her middle finger up to make her feelings about the alleged 'close call' abundantly clear. She looked back to see the carcass of the Mirelurk behind them.

“In that insipid man’s defense, there was in fact a Mirelurk behind us.” Danse grumbled as he pushed himself up from the ground, offering her his hand which she took begrudgingly.

“Danse, I swear to fuck, do _not_ encourage him.” She groaned, shooting him an annoyed glance. At the sight of faint smile she caught teasing at the corner of his mouth, she felt a nervous flutter start in her stomach.

_Jesus Christ Nora. Get it together._

Almost as soon as they crossed the crumbled entrance of the Castle, Preston had spotted them and was rushing toward them, a joyful expression lighting up his features. “General! I just got some fantastic news.”

“Enlighten me.” Nora offered dryly. She thought that her friend’s enthusiasm was wholly inappropriate for the late hour of the night, particularly as exhaustion was starting to settle in.

“Sturges just got word over the radio that former Minutemen Commander Ronnie Shaw is headed over with a group of settlers! She was the backbone of the organization’s weapon maintenance. Nothing went into the field until she approved it.” He rushed, his eyes alight with excitement.

“That’s great, Pres. I can’t want to meet her.” Despite the pull of weariness in her muscles, the words were genuine. It was a small blessing to see her friend so happy.

“Fair warning, she can be a bit... direct.” Preston advised carefully, as if avoiding some more colorful descriptions.

“I like her already.” Nora looked at the time on her PipBoy with a groan. “Please tell me she’s not on her way now...”

“No, it shouldn’t be until morning.” He assured, causing Danse to let out a grunt of approval.

“There is a God.” She stated sarcastically, looking toward the west wing of the fort intently. “Anyone staying in the west side tonight?”

“All yours... Ironically that’s where the General’s quarters are. It has a bed and everything. I’ll tell everyone to steer clear for the night.” Preston promise, shooting Danse a quick glance.

_Maybe this is Karma’s way of apologizing._

“This is why you’re my second in command.” Nora jested to the fellow Minuteman before turning to Danse. “No offense. You want to go over the game plan for the next few days before I hit the hay?”

“I... Sure.” Danse offered awkwardly as she started toward the entrance.

Upon entering the quarters, she noticed that her pack was already placed on the bed and made a mental note to thank Preston for once against anticipating what she would want even before she herself knew. The thought of having to sleep in the bunk room was an unwelcome one, far too exposed and vulnerable in the open, even if it was with her fellow Minutemen. She quickly unpacked the armor and miscellaneous goods within, sorting the items out on the desk in the corner, only looking up briefly when Danse entered.

“So I think it’ll be about a day to get back to Cambridge. I know you probably want to go immediately, but I need to at least stay here tomorrow to get the place fortified. If you want to go-”

“I don’t believe that’ll be necessary.” Danse asserted, a clear tone of disapproval in his voice.

Nora could herself blush, her cheeks suddenly warm at the fact that he seemed as opposed to the idea as she was, and quickly cleared her throat. “Then we should be good to go the morning after tomorrow... We should talk about what we’re going to tell Maxson...”

“We found Kellogg who led us to a rogue Institute scientist in the Glowing Sea where we met with said lead and obtained the build instructions for the Molecular Relay.” He answered matter-of-factly, his frown the only indication of his true feelings about their cover.

“Isn’t he going to ask how we got the Courser code? Or how we found Virgil?” She pressed as she turned to face him.

He just shook his head, meeting her eyes quickly as he moved to inspect her weapons laid out on the desk next to her, quickly disassembling them and grabbing a rag from the pile of cleaning supplies. “I doubt Elder Maxson will be hard pressed to interrogate you after you found the only lead into the Institute in the Brotherhood’s history.”

“But he _might_. So we need to iron out the details.”

Danse let out a frustrated sigh at her insistence, staring intently at Righeteous’ barrel in his hands. “Just... Let me worry about that.”

Nora bit out an indignant laugh, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the desk, watching him clean the frame laser-focus. “Excuse me? No, Danse. Jesus. If anything you should just let me take whatever blame for getting the info from the Railroad. You know better, I don’t.”

“Absolutely not.” He gritted out, finally looking up to meet her eyes.

“I’m serious. Just tell Maxson the truth. That I killed Kellogg months ago, but we found Virgil, after which I ran off to the Railroad to get the chip decoded, where you found me in Bunker Hill and brought me back. ” She begged, letting out an irritated breath as she continued.”Let me take the fall for this.”

“Are you insane?” He demanded as he turned to her, dropping the frame he was cleaning onto the table in a clatter. “Maxson would take the plans for the Relay and have you brought up on charges or worse. I’m not going to let you do that, Nora.”

“You won’t let me? I’m going to end up pissing him off sooner or later. Do you _want_ me to take you down with me?” She insisted, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took a slow inhale. The thought of her ruining yet someone else’s life terrified her to her very bone, the fact that it was Danse only expounded the feeling.

At her words he appeared to hesitate, answering in a tone rife with stubborn determination. “I... I told you that if we go down, we go down together.”

“And you call me the crazy one... Fuck!” Nora exclaimed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to piece together a plausible story. “Alright. Then how about after we got the Courser chip, we went back and got the chip decoded by Virgil.”

“That seems... logical.” He agreed, causing her to scoff at the comment.

“That’s high praise coming from you.” She quipped, offering him a small smile as she looked back at him.

“As you would say, I _am_ prone to logic.” He answered, returning a slight smirk of his own as he nodded to the bed across the room. “I must also advise it would be logical to get some rest while you can.”

_Since when did he become such a smart-ass?_

“I have to clean my weapons-”

Danse raised his hand to her objections, his tone set and final. “I can do it. Go to bed.”

“Fine, but I’m only going because I’m exhausted. And I’m checking your work in the morning to make sure you didn’t fuck up my guns.” She grumbled, collapsing on the bed and pulling the questionably stained blanket around her. “Make sure no one knifes me in my sleep, okay?”

“Promise.” He assured, turning back to the guns on the table and working silently as she let the heavy weight of fatigue overtake her.

*

Danse looked up from his the dissembled pieces of his own laser rifle, having long since cleaned and reassembled all of Nora’s weapons, when he’d heard her start to toss and turn on the mattress. At first he assumed she was just readjusting, then he caught the sound of her breathing suddenly hitch, followed by a pained grunt as she started to mumble aloud. He was by the bed in an instant, terrified that she’d sustained some sort of infection as she slept from her foolhardy dip in the river which undoubtedly had a significant level of pollution and radiation..

“ _No._ ” She begged, her voice weak and distant, a sound so vulnerable and desolate Danse though it might stop his heart on the spot as he listened. He watched her face contort in an agonizing grimace as she flinched in her sleep and began mumbling something incoherently.

He took a seat on the side of the mattress, quickly reached down to check her forehead to see if she had an elevated temperature. Almost as soon as his hand had touched her face, she shot up, bringing a vice grip around his arm in an instant.

“Shaun?!” She yelled into the room, her eyes wild and wide as she panted, appearing to still be in the midst of her nightmare.

“Nora, you’re okay.” Danse urged, quickly reaching up to hold the side of her cheek, recalling that it seemed to grounder her in previous incidents of distress. “You’re okay, you’re here with me... You’re _safe._ ”

Nora took a quick inhale of breath, releasing her grip as she blinked her eyes quickly, appearing to coming snap back into reality as he moved his hand to grasp the back of her neck, meeting her eyes immediately. “ _Danse_.”

“Are you alright?” He asked, gently brushing his finger against the side of her jaw.

She looked up at him with wide eyes before forcing a tense smile to her face that was clearly feigned. “I’m always fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He whispered, trying to ignore how she leaned into his touch instinctively, seeming to relax against his hand.

“No... I’m not.” She admitted, reaching up to gently hold his wrist as she looked down at the mattress.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Danse offered, watching as she cautioned a glance back up to meet his eyes.

“You don’t want to hear about my bad dreams. I promise.” Nora muttered with a sad scoff, turning back away from him with a start.

“I do if they’re upsetting you.” He reassured, relieved when his words seemed to sooth her, the tension in her shoulders releasing slightly.

“It... I was back at Jamaica Plains, in that house...” She let out a slow breath, returning his gaze with an achingly heartbroken look in her eyes. Danse knew what she was going to say before she even spoke, the look of a parent who had lost a child being wholly incomparable to any sort of loss or agony in the entirety of the world. “Except it wasn’t Sandra I found, it was...”

“Shaun.” He guessed, feeling her suddenly tense at the name as she nodded, slamming her eyes shut, her breaths hitching as they turned into quick gasps.

“I-I have no idea what I’m going to find when I get inside, if Maxson will even let me be the one to go-” Nora began rambling, staring at the wall behind him intently.

“He will.” Danse stated, bringing his forehead to hers gently, unwilling and unable to considered the screaming objections about propriety and decorum when she was so deeply distressed.

“You don’t know that.” She whispered, the noise barely audible even in the silence of the night.

“I’ll insist on it.” He promised, leaning back away to meet her eyes which were noticeably damp in the fading lantern light.

“Stay.” She croaked, tightening her hand where she held his wrist, pulling it toward her slightly. He watched her shift nervously for several heavy moments before she spoke. “Humor me, just... just for tonight. Before we get back aboard the Prydwen, just... stay with me. _Please_.”

“Okay.” He breathed, the agreement coming out reflexively as he felt her grip relax, gently guiding him closer as she shifted to make room for him on the mattress.

Danse knew that there wasn’t anything in the world that could possibly get him to deny her a thing, not when she was giving him that pleading look, so achingly desolate as she asked him nothing more than a simple favor. He carefully laid down on his side next to her, cautious to keep a respectable distance between them. A concern which did not appear to be high on Nora’s list of priorities at all, as evidence by how she scooted closer to him, her face mere inches from his own.

“Thank you.” She offered finally, reaching out to lay her hand over his arm which was loosely tucked under his head as he watched her carefully.

Danse hesitated as he reached forward, debating the intimacy of the gesture before deciding he didn’t particularly care, and gently tucked her hair behind her ear. Almost immediately, Nora scooted nearer still, taking the motion as an indication to permit such closeness as she curl up against him, resting her head on his chest.

“Try to get some rest, Nora.” He urged, bringing his arm over her shoulders and rubbing small circles against her back like he had back at Jamaica Plains.

“Okay.” She agreed appearing to relax at his words as she closed her eyes and settled against him.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he heard her breathing even out, indicating she had fallen back asleep. A small part of him warned that he _should_ try to get up, but the notion went wholly ignored as he felt his own tiredness start to over take him and he drifted to sleep.

*

“Ma’am, I don’t think you should go in there -”

“Stuff it Garvey. I’m well past earning the right to talk to our new General-”

“General Smith is still sleeping-”

“At this hour? Dawn was two hours ago. Time to rise and shine.” The door to the old General’s quarters let out a resounding thud as it swung open against the stone wall, causing Nora to flinch, only half aware of her surroundings as she awoke with a jolt.

She was aware that the strong arms the had been around her moments prior were suddenly absent, and she tried to focus on the figures that had entered as the assaulting brightness of morning pouring into the room.

“How cute.” The gravely woman’s voice called with feigned sweetness as she made her way to the table in the center of the room. “Now if you’re done playing house, I’d like to introduce myself and hear your plans on how to get the Minutemen up and running again.”

_Manners truly are dead in the wasteland._

“Have you no semblance of decency charging in here while Nora sleeps?” Danse bit, glaring down at the offending party.

Nora could feel her cheeks heat up at how vehemently he came to her defense against their new arrival. _Manners might be dead but chivalry certainly isn’t._

“I _do_ hate to interrupt the canoodling, but we have business to attend to.” The woman answered firmly, dropping a handful of papers onto the top of the table.

Nora quickly stood, trying to compose herself as best she could with limited notice, ignoring the heartbeat clamoring against her chest at the realization that she had spent the entire night firmly pressed against Danse as she slept. “Let me guess... Ronnie Shaw?”

“The one and only.” The woman confirmed, pointing to the papers on the desk. “We need to talk about building some artillery.”

Nora ran a hand over her face, trying hopelessly to make sense of the woman’s words in her sleep addled state. “Preston couldn’t handle this?”

“I wanted to get your opinion on the matter.... Given the implication of fortifying the Castle so significantly.” Preston answered as he peered around the doorway, nodding to Danse in explanation. “I wouldn’t want to cause any undue conflict.”

“As long as the Minutemen have no plans to mount an attack against the Brotherhood, I am quite certain Elder Maxson will not be concerned with your plans here.” Danse asserted with a frown.

“You sure about that? You Brotherhood sort don’t seem too fond of us regular folk.” Ronnie stated, glaring back up at him defiantly.

“I’m sure there won’t be any issues.” Nora quickly interjected, though she had to admit the other woman did have a valid argument. The Brotherhood’s desire to maintain control over technology made their amicability to another well-fortified militia questionable at best.

Ronnie just grunted in response and Nora made her way to the table, trying to make sense of the scribbles on the faded blueprints.

“So you want to build some...” Nora paused, squinting at the plans carefully. “Big guns?”

“Some very big guns.” Ronnie confirmed, shooting Preston a glance as he nodded in agreement.

Nora let a long breath of air as she narrowed her eyes at the papers. While she was certainly for fortifying the Castle, she knew all too well what could happen if there was an arms race between the Brotherhood and Minutemen. “Why?”

“Bigger gun, bigger boom.” Danse answered from behind her, peering down at the blueprints with a slight smile.

“I gotta agree with your friend here.” Ronnie explained, pointing to the artillery firmly. “If the Minutemen have any hope of coming back as strong as we were before, we need to be prepared for anything. That’s were this comes in. Great big guns means that we can blow up our enemies from miles away. Any of this making a lick of sense to ya?”

Nora barely fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead forcing a tense smile to her lips that she was half certain looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, I get the idea. I’m sure Sturges can get you whatever you need. He’s the expert at building just about anything. I know guns not.... this mechanical shit.”

“Sturges and Athena are working on getting the door to the armory open.” Preston explained, looking down at the plan studiously. “l’d help myself, but MacCready and I were supposed to head over to County Crossing later today to help them out with a mutant problem.”

“I don’t think you want me building this.” Nora asserted, pointing to the blueprint insistently. “I’d probably end up accidentally rigging it to explode.”

“Jeez. You’re really inspiring my vote of confidence here, General.” Ronnie grumbled, sorting through the additional papers on the table.

“Sorry. Building artillery wasn’t exactly on the curriculum back in 2077.” She snapped, running a frustrated hand through her hair and crossing her arms over her chest.

Ronnie offered an amused smirk as she looked back at her. “Oh, that’s right, Garvery said you were a popsicle for two centuries-”

“That is not exactly the way I worded it.” Preston quickly objected.

Danse cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “The blueprints for the artillery seem fairly straight forward. Perhaps I could be of assistance in overseeing their construction.”

“Damn General. Maybe your boy toy here aint so bad.” Ronnie answered with a chuckle as she grabbed the blueprints from the table and turned to the door. “Come one kid, no time like the present.”

Nora was intently aware of the deep shade of crimson she had turned at the comment, and immediately stared down to study the floor, half begging for anything that would obliterate her on the spot to escape the crushing sense of awkward embarrassment.

Danse silently followed Ronnie out of the door, only shooting a quick glance back at her that she nervously returned before he disappeared down the hallway.

Preston cleared his throat, failing to repressing the faint knowing smile from pulling at this lips.

“Shut up.” Nora rushed, taking a long inhale in a desperate attempt to slow her racing pulse.

“I didn’t say anything.” He objected weakly, his amusement apparent.

“Your face said enough.” She muttered, looking up to meet her friend’s eyes.

“I’m just happy you two -”

“Nope.” She rushed, shaking her head.

“It was _very_ sweet -” He retried, only to be cut off by her annoyed scowl.

“I swear to God Preston this time when I deck you it’ll be on purpose.” Nora warned, waving her finger at him.

Preston let out a soft, happy laugh before answering. “Duly noted.”

She toyed with the chains around her neck as she read over the other papers Ronnie had left on the table. “What’s this about?”

“List of Minutemen needing assignment. Figured you’d want to do the honors.” He explained, pointing to the top couple names. “Those two were former Minutemen that came down with Shaw. I’m sure they’ll have a lot of valuable insight.”

She considered his words for a few moments before nodding.“Yeah? We could use some veteran members, as long as they’re willing to work with us.”

“Pretty sure you can charm those two into just about anything, Nora.” He quipped as he headed to the doorway. “I’ll let you get ready.”

“Mm. Yeah, thanks.” She mumbled, relieved when Preston closed the door and she had a moment to herself to just think.

As hard as she tried to focus on prioritizing her responsibilities of the day before leaving for Cambridge the next morning, Nora couldn’t keep her thoughts off of the fact that not only had Danse slept next to her all night, he had held her the entire time. The situation only confused her already complicated feelings on whatever developments had been blooming in their relationship. While he had kissed her just a couple days prior, he seemed steadfastly opposed to the notion of anything less than professional occurring between them... Except that he kept holding her and touching her with an aching intimacy.

Nora let out a frustrated sigh, quickly pulling her hair back and straightening her suit before pushing open the door to the General’s quarters.

_Let’s just get this over with._

*

It had taken them almost 5 hours just to build the first artillery piece, not without a fair amount of cursing and complaining on Ronnie’s part. But save for discussing the mechanics of the device, the grumpy older woman had been blessedly silent.

It wasn’t until they were about an hour into building the second piece, which thankfully was progressing significantly faster than the first, that Ronnie apparently felt the need to break the comfortable silence they had adopted.

“So tell me, how does a Brotherhood soldier come to be affiliated with the Minutemen? I can’t imagine your superiors are particularly thrilled about that.” She asked, watching him from the corner of her eye as she connected the bottom cradle to the barrel, tightening the bolts in place.

“I’m not affiliated with Minutemen.” He answered with a sigh, hesitating only briefly when he caught sight of her raised eyebrow. “And they are not aware of Nora’s... position within your organization.”

“I see. Well, you’re definitely affiliated with us now, kid.” Ronnie answered, grabbing a screw driver from the toolbox between them. “At the very least you’re clearly _affiliated_ with the General.”

“So it would seem.” Danse grumbled, more to himself that to her, as he checked the breech ring to ensure it would hold.

It was certainly an accurate analysis, albeit an alarming one. He couldn’t blame the woman for her impression, given the scene she’d walked in on that morning. The situation should have bothered him more significantly than it did, but besides the rampant concern that such impropriety could impact Nora’s chances at finding her son, he couldn’t bring himself to care about potential repercussions for himself.

Because it was the first time in his life that he had ever spent the night with someone, even if nothing improper occurred between them, but the feeling of wholeness that it inspired was incomparable. He hadn’t even had any of his usual nightmares, and given how Nora hadn’t moved all night, neither had she.

Ronnie was absolutely correct in her words, Danse knew that he had intrinsically linked himself to Nora, and by association, the Minutemen as well. It was something that Maxson would absolutely disapprove of, if he were to discover such facts, but he was determined to ensure that such allegiance did not come to light. For Nora’s sake.

Almost as if summoned, Nora emerged from the top of the stairs, a gentle smile on her face as she met his eyes. The feeling it inspired in her chest was undoubtedly more addictive than all the Med-X in the wasteland.

“I figured you guys were hungry.” She stated, lifting a couple bowls in their direction.

“Well aren’t you polite.” Ronnie answered with a small smirk as she moved to stand.

“Hey now, I have a reputation as fearless General to uphold, so don’t go spreading rumors.” Nora quipped, offering the bowl to the other woman.

“Yeah I’ve heard about your reputation.” The older woman answered, elaborating when she noticed Nora’s surprised expression. “Let just say I've heard some good things. Wouldn't be here otherwise.”

“Well I’m honored to have you, Shaw. Robinson and Gareth were telling me that you were the backbone of Hollis’ party. I’d like to honor your previous rank of Commander, if you’d accept.” Nora answered firmly, meeting Ronnie’s smirk with ease.

“That’s awfully generous of you, General. I’d be happy to accept.” She answered, taking the bowl. “I’d say you’re halfway to earning my full respect.”

“I look forward to working with someone as knowledgeable as you, Commander.” Nora assured, nodding in response.

“Now you’re pushing it.” Ronnie grumbled, turning back to look over the courtyard.

Nora shrugged, looking back to Danse with a raise of her eyebrow. “You should eat.”

“I appreciate the consideration.” He answered, suddenly aware of the mounting tension between them, given the undiscussed events of the night.

“Well, I can’t have you going hungry on my watch.” She quipped, nodding to the artillery piece he had been working on. “You guys doing all right up here?”

“Affirmative.” Danse confirmed, eagerly taking the bowl as she extended it toward him, instantly aware of his significant hunger that he had apparently ignored while focused on building the artillery.

Ronnie turned back toward them with a sly smirk. “Trust me General, when you see those shells raining down on our enemies... Well, you'll know it was worth it.

“I believe it.” Nora answered, her eyes going distant for a moment before she looked back at him. “I’d love to hang, but I have about a dozen new recruits who don’t know their ass from their elbow so... See you later?”

“Of course.” He answered immediately, relieved when Nora shot him a relieved smile before turning down toward the stairs with a small wave.

“She’s quite something isn’t she?” Ronnie asked as she regarded him was an all too perceptive look.

“Yeah.” Danse agreed, missing her presence with all of his being. “She certainly is.”

*

Nora looked up from the map spread out on the table just as Danse peeked his head around the corner of the doorway of the General’s quarters.

“Hey there.” She offered nervously, kicking herself for feeling suddenly excited at the mere sight of him.

“Good evening Nora. Are you busy?” He asked, nodding to the map in question.

“Never too busy for you.” Nora quipped, immediately looking back at the task at hand, if only just to avoid his shocked expression that was only serving to further enamor her with him. “I could actually use your opinion.”

He quietly made his way to her side, standing far closer than she expected, and she wondered if it was intentional on his part. The closeness sent a jolt of excitement through her that she quickly tried to repress.

“What do you require my assistance with?” He asked, scanning the map intently.

She cleared her throat, failing to ignore the sudden realization of how they were alone in her quarters next to a very sturdy table. “I’m trying to figure out where to station some of the guys. I want to send a few down to Jamaica Plains given the recent attack, but that would leave Somerville virtually undefended.”

Danse nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in thought as he looked over the map. He shot her a sympathetic look before speaking. “Please understand I mean no disrespect in saying this... But I believe sending your forces to Jamaica Plains would be futile. It’s much more prudent to send your people to occupied settlements... I know this is personal for you-”

“No, you’re right.” She admitted, relieved for the dose of reality over her pressing need for revenge. Preston had been all too keen to tell her the choice was up to her digression alone, which had been thoroughly unhelpful. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“Are you alright?” He pressed, turning his gaze to hers as he appeared to scan her face.

“I... I don’t know. I’m here. I’m alive. That’s what matters.” Nora muttered, instinctively leaning to rest her head against his arm, which he instantly moved to wrap around her shoulders. She took a long, slow breath in before elaborating. “I can’t look at this shit any more. I need sleep.”

“I see.” Danse tensed at the words, his tone painfully controlled, masking any indication of his feelings.

“Are you... “ She quickly swallowed every ounce of ego before continuing, understanding the enormity of the request. “Will you lay with me again tonight?”

“I... Are you quite certain?” He answered, his eyes going wide as he went instantly still.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want...” The words were rushed, forced out of her mouth as she started to lean away from him, only to be stopped by his firm grip on her upper arm.

“I... I want to.” He confessed, meeting her eyes quickly.

“Okay.” She breathed, leading him to the bed in the corner slowly, to allow him ample time to change his mind, should he deign it necessary.

But even as she laid down on the mattress, Danse showed no indication of disapproval, immediately taking the space next to her and draping his arm over her shoulders as she scooted closer against him.

_This would certainly fall under the category of ‘inappropriate’._

“Get some rest... We have a long journey tomorrow.” He whispered, pulling her miraculously even closer to him with a soft sigh.

“Thank you.” She breathed, laying her head comfortably against his chest as she relaxed into the embrace. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to be since crawling out of that vault.”

Any nervousness about the inherent vulnerability of her confession was dissuaded as Danse let out a faint laugh before responding. “Would you believe me if I were to indicate that I share the same sentiment?”

“No.” She admitted, soothed by the tender moment of intimacy from him as he brushed her hair from her face.

“Go to sleep.” He urged as he started to rub the familiar, soothing pattern of circles between her shoulder blades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready for rat bastard maxson?


	36. Swing Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I heard yall wanted a happy, hokey lovey-dovey chapter before the shit-storm of life rains down on my babies so..... here ya go. It's going to go to shit next chapter.
> 
> I gave Nora freckles. Sue me.

Danse could feel Nora shift slightly, followed by the faint sound of her turning the knob of her PipBoy. At the sound of her frustrated sigh, he opened his eyes just in time to see her flick the display off and settle back against him.

“What is it?” He cautioned, his voice coming out gruffer than intended, compromised by the heavy pull of sleep he was trying to shake in the early hours of the morning.

“You know how John said they couldn’t reach me on the radio?” She asked, propping herself up on her arm as she turned to look down at him, her eyebrows drawn together in thought.

“Hm. Yes I recall.” He admitted, trying to ignore the less than chaste thoughts running through his mind at the sight of her leaning over him. The position wasn't helped by the way her thin tank top was pulling against her chest, drawing his attention down to her cleavage despite his attempts at decorum.

“I think Tom disabled the broadcast when he updated the map for me.” Nora let out an angry breath of air at the notion. “I’ll have to have Sturges look at it before we head out... I can’t let what happened at Jamaica Plains happen again.”

“Do you really think he would intentionally compromise the broadcast?” Danse asked, frowning at the thought that the eccentric young man could have contributed to the carnage at the settlement.

She hesitated briefly before answering, appearing to consider her words carefully. “Tom is a bit... peculiar. If he did, I don’t think he meant any harm, but still...”

_Not the verbiage I'd use... Paranoid possibly... Delusional? Certainly._

He watched her crestfallen expression as she trailed off, looking suddenly guilty. “I’m sorry, Nora.” He offered, watching as she nodded silently, appearing to scan his face briefly before looking away. He nudged her gently, drawing her attention back to him. “What time is it?”

“A bit before dawn. Five... something.” She mumbled, meeting his eyes even in the waning darkness with a gentle smile. “Thanks for staying.”

“Where else would I have gone?” He pressed, scanning her face as if he expected to find the answers scattered among her faint freckles. It was clear that she was nervous, but he wasn’t quite sure what inspired her unease so early in the morning.

Nora paused before responding, watching him carefully as she spoke. “I don’t know... I’m sure it goes against every rule of conduct and I don’t want to jeopardize your career. It wasn’t fair of me to-”

“Stop.” He urged, reaching forward almost reflexively to caress the side of her face. “I think we’re well past that at this point.”

“Yeah. I guess we are.” She answered, letting out a faint laugh as she leaned into the contact, bringing her hand gently around his wrist.

Danse thought that no one had any business looking as radiant as she did so early in the morning, and he couldn’t help the smile from breaking across his face as he watched her tender expression match his own.

He cleared his throat, trying to push back the idea teasing his thoughts about how he’d like nothing more than to kiss her right there and pull her back into bed, to have her settle back against his chest in a way that made him feel more whole than his entire career with the Brotherhood ever could.. “I suppose I should let you find Sturges.”

“Yeah.” Nora agreed with a frown, looking back to the door as if it was personally offensive to her. “The sooner we can head out, the sooner we’ll be able to report in with Maxson.”

The brief look of disappointment that crossed her face didn’t escape him and he wanted to kick himself for ruining the tender moment between them as she sat up, nudging him to move over so she could get out of bed. Danse obliged silently, dropping his hand back to his side as he watched her stand and head out of the room with a small wave. 

But by Atom he would have given just about anything to have had her stay.

*

By the time Sturges had fixed the damage Tom had done to her PipBoy, all the while muttering about the encryption and chastising her for letting someone _else_ dare look at the invaluable technology, much less actually modify the device, it was well after dawn.

After a quick breakfast of razorgrain porridge and cooked mutfruit, they were finally able to start off back to Cambridge, fortunately slipping away before too many of her fellow Minutemen could wake up and pester her with a thousand irrelevant questions that Preston was more than capable handling. Nora honestly didn’t know why she even still had the title of General, given that Preston had assumed most of the duties associated with being in charge of the militia, but she figured it was just the man’s damn courtesy to not vie for the position he had so freely given her. Regardless, she was relieved that he had taken over the brunt of responsibility as it gave her the freedom to focus on finding Shaun.

_That's the priority here, after all._ But she couldn't help the fact that such a goal seemed so impossibly far from reality. As much as she desperately wanted to see her son, the nagging feeling that something was wrong with the whole plan couldn't stop eating at her thoughts. _A mother knows when something is wrong._

Nora shot a quick look back to Danse who was inspecting the body of the nearest Raider with a scowl. She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on between them, given the events of the past few days, but it was abundantly clear that he harbored some sort of feeling beyond that of strictly friendship toward her. Even if he seemed hesitant to allow himself to embrace the growing intimacy.

It was infuriating, to say the least. She certainly didn’t want to push him into something he was unsure of, but it only served to confuse her further when he’d act so contradictory.

Trying to figure out Danse’s intentions with their budding closeness was fairly useless, considering they’d be stuck aboard the Prydwen for the foreseeable future. Whatever had been blooming between them would be inevitably squandered around the rank and decorum of the militant organization. The thought of being stuck aboard the glorified death trap sent a sudden jolt of anxiety down her spine that she couldn't quite quell.

Before she could process the feeling, she saw the familiar metal barricade of the police station in the distance. As strikingly identical as the scene was to the first time she’d happened upon Danse and the remainder Recon Squad Gladius, it felt so profoundly different, as if it were an entire lifetime ago.

In a way, Nora figured, it was. She was no longer the person she was when she’d first crawled out of the vault almost three months before. A part of her wanted to hate herself for the person she’d become, so prone to violence and fury. But a larger, more forgiving part of herself, knew that it was strictly a matter of survival.

_Dr Akopian would be proud._

For the first time since waking up, she considered the notion that, as much as it pained her, Nate simply wouldn’t have survived as long as she had. He would have been heartbroken at the fate of the world just as she was, but he was always far more compassionate than her, and that wasn’t something that typically contributed to one’s longevity in the wasteland.

“Nora.” Danse stated, suddenly stopping and turning to her, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. “I understand that you and I have grown fairly close in recent weeks, but I want to caution you-”

“I know.” She rushed, her pulse hammering against her chest at the realization that they were about to maintain the facade of professionalism in the near future. It burned almost as bad as the laser round she'd taken to shoulder for him months before. “I assure you, I will behave with the utmost professionalism aboard the Prydwen, sir.”

“I have no doubt.” He answered, quickly recomposing his expression into firm stoicism as he nodded to the barricade. “Knight Hartt, are you ready to report in to Elder Maxson and resume your duties with the Brotherhood?”

“Absolutely, Paladin Danse.” She replied, fighting the faint smirk she felt at their apparent game of pretending they were nothing more than colleagues.

“Outstanding.” He answered, the brief twitch of his lips the only indication that he too was amused by their cover.

Nora followed him wordlessly as he made his way across the courtyard, offering curt nods at their fellow soldiers as they entered the police station. She was both unnerved and relieved that everyone stations at Cambridge was thoroughly unfamiliar to her, as she didn’t think she could maintain the cover for very long around anyone as perceptive as Swinton or Haylen.

The thought of seeing her fellow sister’s in Steel sent a surge of joy through her in anticipation. She was particularly excited to see Swinton, given that the other woman had apparently still covered for her, even with Danse after her sudden departure the last time they’d spoke.

Once on the roof, Danse quickly radioed in a request to send a Vertibird to the station.

The realization of being airborne once more made Nora feel suddenly sick, as she tried and failed to ignore the inherent danger of the aircraft, a fact which apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you alright?” Danse inquired quietly, shooting a cautious look to the man standing guard in the courtyard below.

Forcing a tense smile to her face, she nodded, swallowing back her anxiety as she spoke. “I never liked being anywhere but on solid ground. Just a bit of a nervous flier.”

“Are you... going to be ill?” He asked with a frown, scanning her face intently.

“I don’t barf, if that’s what you're asking.” She grumbled, ignoring the only recent memories of when she’d been truly sick. _Except when I was pregnant that is._

He paused briefly, looking up toward the approaching aircraft. “If you believe you are going to be ill, please try to refrain from doing so aboard the Vertibird. The Lancers are particularly irate in such circumstances. Which occur... frequently.”

“You concern is touching.” She answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she shot him a quick glare. “I’m not going to barf, _Paladin._ ”

Before he could answer, the Vertibird began descending on the helipad, the rotation of the propellers drowning out any potential attempts at conversation. Nora suddenly recognized the Lancer as the once who had taking her aboard the Prydwen the previous time, and couldn't repress the scowl that took residence on her face.

As soon as the propellers cut out, she grumbled her disapproval out loud, just loud enough for Danse to hear it. “This joker? You got to be fucking kidding me...”

“ _That_ is Lancer-Sergeant Wilson, who I don’t think I need to explain, outranks you substantially.” Danse warned quietly, shooting her a quick glance as the pilot waved to them enthusiastically.

“Of course he does.” She answered dryly, suddenly mortified at the realization that one of the first things she had done aboard the Prydwen was to insult a senior officer’s pilot skills. To be fair, she thought, they were quite abysmal. _Maybe it’s time to retire, buddy._

She quickly boarded and fastened herself into the harness of the Vertibird, allowing Danse the chance to operate the minigun, should he desire. Peering over the gaping opening of the aircraft with the faint hope of killing a super mutant from fifty stories above didn’t seem particularly worth it to her.

Danse shot her a knowing look before buckling himself into the harness next to her, apparently sharing her same sentiment before leaning forward with a small smile teasing his lips. “If you get sick, I will be truly displeased.”

“You and me both.” She mumbled, trying to fight her own smirk at his apparent proclivity for dry sarcasm. Any semblance of amusement disappeared in an instant as she felt the Vertibird lurch forward, a sudden panic rushing throughout her body.

"You're okay." Danse promised, looking forward with all the emotion of a carrot as he seemed to force his gaze to the back of their pilot's head.

The five minute ride to the Prydwen was just as terrifying as the first time she’d had the misfortune of riding with Lancer-Sergeant Wilson, and Nora found herself missing Swinton’s capable flight skills in comparison. The realization that they were about to hand over her best chance at finding her son to a man who she trusted about as far as she could throw, which was certainly not very far, struck an instant tightness in her chest. While Danse was first in line to sing the Elder’s praises, she couldn’t shake the near-reptilian way in which Maxson had watched her, as if testing her loyalties upon their first meeting.

Almost as soon as the Vertibird docked, she unlatched the harness and rushed out of the aircraft, not so much as sharing a word of thanks to the pilot. She knew it would inevitably be deigned as rude, but the thought of standing anywhere near the edge of the deck compromised her social niceties significantly.

“Knight Hartt. Let’s head inside to speak with Elder Maxson immediately.” Danse stated, his tone startlingly stoic as he nodded to the entrance to the flight deck.

“Yes sir.” She assured, mirroring his professional composure as best she could as she followed behind him without another word.

As they made their way across the airship, Nora couldn’t help but notice the curious looks that she was drawing from her fellow soldiers, accompanied by the profound sensation of pity in how they regarded her. It was almost as bad as her first few returned to Diamond City, before the townsfolk got the message that she was not to be fucked with and decided to go back to minding their own business.

The sudden attention apparently wasn’t lost on Danse either, given the concerned look he briefly shot her before entering the briefing room where Maxson stood overlooking the table with a frown.

“Knight Hartt. How polite of you to grace us with your presence.” Maxson stated sarcastically as he looked up from the desk with a scowl.

Nora quickly resumed the facade of dutiful soldier, answering him with all the feigned respect she could muster. “My most sincere apologies Elder, we got delayed on our return-”

“And here I was under the impression you were dedicated to our cause. But this,” Maxson interrupted frimly, pointing to the worn, familiar calligraphy of the very article she’d grown to hate sitting on the corner of the table. “ _This_ would indicate that your motivations are quite different than I was initially led to believe upon your induction.”

_Piper’s article. Oh fuck this day right to hell._

Before she could answer, Danse spoke up, his tone confidant. “Elder Maxson, I can assure you that Knight Hartt’s motivations might be different than-”

“Paladin Danse.” Maxson interrupted yet again, turning to the other man in an instant. “Am I to understand you were aware of these... ulterior motives?”

“No.” Nora interjected quickly, drawing their attention back to her as her heart hammered against her chest, thoroughly unwilling to allow him to take the fall for her indiscretions. “Paladin Danse was only advised of my particular history as of a week ago.”

The lie slipped out like she remembered cool butter melting against a hot knife, and she was relieved for the sudden ease in deception to authority. _To be fair, it's not like Maxson is someone you actually respect._

“I will admit I did not inquire beyond what Knight Hartt initially told me, like I should have, prior to her induction.” Danse elaborated, his attention directed completely at the younger man, not so much as risking a look back at her in the mounting tension. “However, I do believe our most recent discovery will make up for her secrecy.”

“Is that so?” Maxson demanded, narrowing his eyes as his gaze shot between them intently.

“Affirmative, sir. Through thorough interrogation of the locals in Diamond City over her brief leave, Knight Hartt was able to ascertain the location of the mercenary Kellogg, who led us to a rogue Institute scientist in the Glowing Sea.” Danse stated, and Nora couldn’t help but feel suddenly warm at the obvious tone of pride in his words. “That scientist, Dr Virgil, has given us a viable lead inside the Institute to wit, instructions on how to construct a Molecular Relay that can teleport one of our soldiers inside. Given the expansive resources at the Brotherhood’s disposal, I posit that we will be able to make headway sooner rather than later.”

“Is this true?” Maxson demanded as he looked back toward her, forcing a sickly sweet smirk to his lips that only churned her stomach.

“Yes, sir.” She confirmed, fighting every urge to look back at Danse to verify her solidarity.

“What of this rogue scientist you located? Were you unable to convince him to assist in the construction of this device?” The elder questioned, his mouth turning down into an irritated frown.

“He was leaving for the Capitol wasteland last time we spoke.” Nora quickly claimed, not wanting to sign Virgil’s metaphorical death certificate by leading the Brotherhood’s forces right to his door before she could obtain the serum. “Said something about wanting to get as far away from the Institute as possible. Apparently they're not exactly fond of defectors.”

Maxson watched her carefully for several long moments, undoubtedly scanning her face for any indication of duplicity. “Very well. I will have Proctor Ingram examine these instructions, but if your sources are to be believed, this is a very monumental day for the Brotherhood. Knight Hartt... I suppose I can forgive your secrecy, considering the gravity of your unique trauma and extenuating circumstances... But make no mistake, I do not condone your deception.”

“Understood sir. I can promise you, traveling with Paladin Danse has assured me of the merits of the Brotherhood’s objectives.” She offered, noting the slight smirk at the corner of Maxson’s mouth at her praise of the organization’s ideals.

“I’m glad to hear it. Remarkable work here, Knight Hartt. The Brotherhood is fortunate to have you on our side. You’re dismissed.” Maxson rushed, turning back toward Danse with a nod. “Paladin Danse, a moment if you would.”

“Of course, Elder.” Danse assured, keeping his attention raptly on his superior as Nora made her way out of the room, only allowing herself the briefest of moments to look back at the two men before making her way back down the flight deck, aiming to head to the bunks below.

As soon as she caught sight of the familiar, short blonde mess of hair seated at the counter, Nora almost let out a relieved laugh. Swinton looked up from the bowl of questionable looking brown sludge immediately, a wide smirk breaking across her face.

“Holy shit! You’re not dead.” The other woman offered, shaking her head at Nora’s surprised expression.

“Not yet, no. Live to fight another day and all that.” She answered sarcastically, settling into the seat next to her equally sarcastic young friend.

“I thought for sure you and Danse were as good as dead, being gone as long as you were.” Swinton raised her eyebrow slightly, pausing only long enough to allow the faintest air of implication before continuing. “And if the wasteland didn’t kill you, I thought Maxson definitely would.”

“Yeah... You have no idea.” Nora admitted with a bitter laugh, not wanting to acknowledge exactly how screwed they’d be if Maxson found out exactly where they’d been the past couple weeks.

“Well I’m glad to see your smiling face again, pumpkin. No one else will pick on the boss-man with me.” Swinton offered with a wink, before turning back to her food.

“Do you even know what a pumpkin is?” Nora insisted with a laugh as she rolled her eyes at the other woman's apparent knowledge of pre-war produce.

Swinton shrugged in response, mirroring her stubborn expression. “Whatever.”

“You’re lucky I like you, Becks. No one else could get away with sassy me like that... Shit I got to talk to Ingram.” Nora realized as she heard the familiar clang of Power Armor echoing around the deck.

“I’m sure you’ll talk yourself out of whatever trouble you got yourself into.” The blonde woman answered, nodding to the approaching woman in question.

“Hartt.” Ingram demanded, crossing her eyes as she looked down at the pair with a frown.

“Kat, you are looking radiant today. Are you doing something different?” Nora offered, pointing to her hair with a wide grin.

“I hear that you destroyed that beautiful set of Power Armor I made for you.” Ingram challenged, shaking her head in disapproval.

“To be fair, it was actually destruction by Deathclaw. But if you still want it, it’s somewhere down in the Glowing Sea.” She quipped, watching the faint twitch of a smile at the older woman’s lips.

“I’m blaming Danse for not teaching you the value of Power Armor.”

“I’m sure the Deathclaw traded what was left of the frame for a handful of caps.” Nora joked, trying to ignore Swinton’s poorly stifled chuckle next to her.

“I know you’re kidding, and it really is cute and all, but just be careful of your attitude around some of the other rank and file, kid...” The mechanic warned, nodding in the direction of Quinlan’s office.

“But that’s what give me my sparkling personality.” Nora objected as Ingram turned back to the armory with a grunt.

“Only you could get away with that shit, Nora.” Swinton muttered, shaking her head at her friend’s indignant expression.

“I told you, it’s my _sparkling personality_.” She answered, moving to stand back up, stretching her back in the process, but not without a few crackles and pops. _Pretty sure that never used to hurt like this before._

“Oh fuck off.” The other woman smarted, finishing the last few bites of her food and extending her middle finger briefly in her direction.

“As you wish, my dear... I needed a shower any way.“ Nora joked as she turned toward where she vaguely remembered the bathrooms being, hoping her memory was accurate.

*

“This is remarkable, Danse.” Maxson offered, allowing his expression to relax as he watched his oldest friend from across the table. “I don’t offer commendations often, but your work with Hartt is admirable, and I can promise, it won’t go unnoticed with the council.”

“That is much appreciated, sir.” Danse answered, watching as the younger man nodded to the doorway where Nora had just exited.

“While I will admit, I was skeptical of your _particular_ motives in recruiting your initiate, she has certainly made an impression. Even if her deception does give me cause for concern.” Maxson stated, narrowing his eyes as he appeared to scan his face for any hint of subterfuge. 

“I assure you, Arthur, Knight Hartt is nothing if not dedicated to our mission here.” Danse promised, hoping on every deity that be that the Elder believed him as he felt suddenly sick to his stomach at having to defend Nora's loyalty to his superior. “While her initial objective was locating her son, she has reason to believe the child’s abduction occurred by the Institute’s hand, and is absolutely on board with destroying the organization as a whole.”

Maxson raised an eyebrow, seeming to sense where the conversation was heading. “I see. As for this device, am I to understand you are requesting she be assigned to infiltrating the Institute after it’s construction?”

“Affirmative, sir. Her particular history with the Institute gives her a compelling cover for why she might be amicable to their tactics. But I am confidant her allegiance lies with us.” It was a lie, albeit a hopeful one, and he hoped his young friend wouldn’t see through it.

“You are undoubtedly aware of the risk you’re taking with maintaining such a statement.” Arthur warned, his eyes going dark at the implication. 

“There is no risk. Knight Hartt will not betray us.” Danse reassured, much more firmly than before. _Nora's life may very well depend on it, after all._

Maxson appeared to match his confidence, pressing the matter further. “Are you certain? Even if her son’s life is in question?”

The thought of what would happen should Nora be forced to make such a decision shot a surge of dread through him, but Danse knew better than to indicate such indecision aloud. “She is a woman of her word, my travels with her have shown me that much.”

The younger man hesitated only briefly before turning his attention back to the worn map of the Commonwealth spread out on the table. “Very well... As it stands, we have no indication if this device will even function, as opposed to simply obliterating her on the spot."

Danse felt himself flinch at the brutally honest analysis, but quickly regained his composure before answering. “It is a definite possibility.”

_By the Creator, please don’t let that happen... I can't... Dear God._

“Feel free to tell your recruit the good news... or rather unfortunate news, as it stands.” Maxson replied, nodding back to the door. “Close the door on your way out.”

“Yes, sir.” Danse rushed, eager for the first time in his life, to be as far away from the man as possible.

Just before he crossed the entryway, he heard Maxson add, the amusement blatant in the younger man’s tone, “Oh, and tell Ms. Hartt she can keep running around in that blue suit of hers, if she likes. We could use a morale boost around here.”

It took every ounce of willpower Danse had not to react to the comment, simply nodding in response as he exited the room.

He knew better than to respond to the jest, knew Maxson was testing him with the comment, even if the younger man watch Nora with far more attention than was necessary. Danse made certain to compose his face as he made his way toward his quarters, repressing every swell of anger as it soared through him at the implication that their fellow soldiers would be objectifying her in the indicated attire.

_For Nora's sake, it might be better to stay in tonight..._

*

Nora knew somewhere in the back of her mind that joining Swinton for the end of the year ‘get together’ the lancers were throwing in the pilot’s quarters was an objectively bad idea. But she also knew that the idea of being trapped hundreds of feet over post-apocalyptic Boston in an airship undeniably past it’s warranty made her want to be very, very drunk.

Except that the pilots apparently drank like teenagers at a house party, and while she was all for letting lose, it wasn’t until Martinez suggested they kidnap Quinlan’s cat, going so far as to actually bring the poor creature back to the party, that Nora had to put a stop to the madness.

Which was exactly how she ended up pacing outside of the proctor’s office, holding a very terrified ‘Mr. Emmett Fuzzles’, per the collar he wore, that she had rescued from the young pilot only minutes before. _Really Quinlan? Of all the possible names? What are we, five?_ _Jesus._

Fortunately, the office was empty of the scholar, giving Nora ample time to return the animal and make her way back to the bunks to try and grab a few moments of rest.

But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t find a comfortable position, which made it damn near impossible to even attempt to sleep, even with the faint lull of bourbon that she’d had imbibed on.

Of all the places she knew that were probably off limits, especially given her pleasant buzz from the earlier party, it was the senior officer quarters. But her feet seemed to move separate from reason, and it wasn’t more than a few minutes later that she ended up pacing outside of Danse’s quarters, the bottle of bourbon she’d swiped from Swinton still in hand. Before her better judgment could stop her, all semblance of logic pushed to the back of her mind, Nora gently rapt her fist on the metal door, taking care not to knock too loudly and draw any unwanted attention.

It was several long moments, during which she was just about to turn and head back to the bunks, before the door quietly opened, followed by a very confused Danse peeking around the frame.

“Nora? What are you doing?” He demanded, quickly scanning the corridor before gripping her upper arm and guiding her inside the room with a frown. “If someone where to see you-”

“Relax, no one saw me, Danse. Everyone is at the lancer’s end of the year get together thing.” She answered with a wave, dismissing the concern.

“I see... I heard about that. I suppose it's no surprised that you would be involved in the festivities.” He replied, gesturing to the bottle of bourbon in her hand.

“Are you calling me a trouble maker?” She quipped, moving to sit on the desk as she raising her eyebrow in response.

The slight smirk she caught teasing at his lips confirmed her suspicion that he did not _actually_ disapprove of her participation in the event. “It does seem to be an apt analysis.”

“For the record I single-handedly rescued Quinlan’s cat from that very party.” Nora insisted, uncapping the bourbon and nodding to the spot across for her on his bed. “Besides, I’d rather spend time with you than a bunch of drunk toddlers.”

“There were squires in attendance?” Danse asked with a pronounced frown that she only found to be further endearing, given his apparent concern for the children on board.

_Jesus, he's even more handsome in a t shirt, if that was even possible._

“What? No, I was just making a joke. Come on, just drink with me, Danse.” She urged, extending the bottle toward him as he settled into a seated position on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the less than friendly urges moving through her stomach.

“I suppose a couple drinks wouldn’t hurt.” He agreed, taking the bottle from her carefully.

“Attaboy.” She almost purred, a sick sense of pleasure at convincing him to make a decision that would likely be considered 'inappropriate' growing in her chest.

Danse took a healthy swig from the bottle, before looking back at her with a faint smirk. “Did you really rescue Emmett from the lancers?”

“The very fact that you know the name of Quinlan’s cat is fucking _adorable_.” Nora teased, leaning forward to take the bottle back, which he moved out of reach just before she could grab it, taking another hearty sip of the liquid.

“I... Will admit I am fond of the creature.” He answered softly, looking down at liquor with a composed expression.

“Then you can rest easy knowing he is perfectly safe in the Proctor’s office.” She asserted, standing to grab the bottle with a glare, half daring him to object, which that time, he didn’t.

“It is good that you’re socializing with your fellow soldiers, especially after your prolonged absence...” He hesitated, watching as she took a small sip from of the booze before abruptly clearing his throat. “Though I hardly think being in here with me will prove to be fruitful in that regard.”

“I’d rather be in here with you...” The words hung between them for several heavy seconds before Nora shrugged, gesturing to the air in a poor attempt at explanation. “I hate being on board this fucking death trap.”

“Proctor Ingram has done remarkable work keeping the Prydwen afloat for the last five years. It’s hardly a death trap.” Danse chastised, reaching back for the bottle from her vice grip and settling back on the bed, softening his tone as he continued, appearing to take note of her worried expression. “It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be apprehensive about heights when they’re first stationed aboard the ship, you know.”

“It’s more than that... I don’t know, it doesn’t matter.” She rushed and looked at the floor, not particularly eager to entertain _that_ particular topic of conversation with him.

“What is it?” He pressed, moving to stand and placing the bottle on the desk, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear in what was becoming a familiar, comforting gesture.

Nora didn’t reply for several minutes, her eyes distant as she retrieved the bourbon, taking a full gulp before placing it back on the desk, wincing visibly at the burn of the liquid down her throat.

At his concerned frown, she just shrugged sadly before finally answering, the alcohol hitting her empty stomach in an instant. “My father... he died in a Vertibird crash. So, I guess it’s just hard not to think about it when I’m up here.”

“I... I’m sorry, Nora. I had no idea.” He stated softly, bringing his hand to gently grasp the side of her face, meeting her eyes with a compassionate warmth that she was half sure she was becoming addicted to.

“I know you didn't...” She murmured as she looked away with a start, relieved for the contact that was doing more to sooth her nerves that the liquor ever could. “I just... I tried sleeping but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head... And you weren’t there.”

Before she could regret admitting such an intimate statement, she felt Danse let out a brief sigh, stepping closer to her as he ran his thumb tenderly along her cheek. “What do you mean?”

_Just fucking say it, you coward._ “I guess I just sleep better when I know you’re nearby.” Nora confessed, looking up at him, half expecting him to continue maintaining the lines of professionalism between them, given their new venue, even if he had so readily rejected them the previous night,. “I feel safer when you’re there.”

“I... You do?” He asked, his surprise event as he desperately scanned her face, as if expecting her to take back the words.

“Yeah, of course I do.” She confirmed, softly tracing her fingers along his wrist as she watched his tender gaze. There was something almost imperceptible that seemed to shift, a sudden exciting tension in the air between them.

“ _Oh._ ” Danse whispered, his tone soft and tender as he watched her expression carefully, before moving his hand to the back of her neck and leaning forward, placing his forehead gently against hers.

He was close enough to allow her to stop him, she noticed, but instead she immediately met his lips, moving her own slowly against his as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss that was so breathtakingly intimate it almost made her heart stop on the spot. Almost instinctively, she reached up to the back of his head, running her fingers gingerly through his hair as she angled closer to him, her other hand gripping his upper arm.

When Danse suddenly leaned away, meeting her eyes with a worrisome expression, Nora immediately pulled him back to her, meeting his lips and kissing him slowly. As soon as he felt her lips back against his own, he relaxed, gently placing his hand on her waist, as if half afraid she’d change her mind.

Nora let out a quick gasp at the movement before leaning back in, arching against his hand as it tentatively pulled her toward him. She immediately gripped his arm tighter as she deepened the kiss, teasing his lips with her tongue as he opened his mouth at the motion. Danse moved his hand to the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair as he pressed himself against her. At the sudden contact, he leaned back, breaking the kiss as he scanned her face.

“I... This is certainly inappropriate.” He stated, the twitch of his jaw the only indication of his sudden nervousness.

“Yeah.” Nora breathed, leaning slightly toward him as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” The words were instantaneous and firm, far more assured than his wide eyes would have lead her to believe moments before.

“Okay.” She whispered, leaning back up to press her lips confidently against his, moving much more eagerly given his explicit approval. Danse immediately moved his hand to her hips, apparently encouraged as he pulled her toward him, kissing her back firmly.

The knock against the door was so aggressive and sudden, Nora would have screamed had her lips not been otherwise occupied. They both jumped back, eyes wide in panic at the realization that they could have been caught in a more than compromising position, depending who was on the other side of the door.

“Hey Paladin." The familiar, _very_ intoxicated voice called through the door, half singing the words. "Have you... Have you seen my friend? She’s... She was somewhere. She had the cat?”

_Oh dear Jesus, Rebecca..._

Danse nodded to the space behind the door with a frown, indicating she hide conceal herself there as he moved to open the door. “Lancer Swinton. Should I remind you of the advanced hour or do you recall your previous disciplinary action resulting from your behavior after the previous ‘get together’?”

“I... You’re a dick... _Sir_. But you’re my favorite Paladin, Danse-y. Even if you’re... a _man_.” Nora watched through the crack in the door as Swinton wrinkled her nose instantly at the word ‘man’ and had to press her lips together at the dramatics to keep from laughing. The young pilot squinted up at Danse, shaking her head. “She _likes_ you... I dunno why... but she does.”

Swinton shrugged, turning back down the corridor with an over-exaggerated wave. “See you tomorrow, Miss Eleanoraaaa. I know you're in theeeerreeeee.”

Nora could feel herself turn as red as a tato at the woman’s apparent perception of where _exactly_ she had slipped off to, covering her face just as Danse closed the door, letting out an irritated sigh.

He turned to her with a frown, scanning her face as she looked up at him. “This could be a very compromising situation, should Lancer Swinton decide -”

“She _won’t._ ” Nora promised, reaching up to caress the side of his face as she met his worried gaze. “Besides... I think we’re past that now.”

Danse seemed to relax against the contact, mirroring her movements and gently pressing his lips back against hers. She immediately brought her hand to the back of his neck, kissing him firmly before he slowly leaned back away from her.

“You’re a tease.” She complained, fighting the smirk growing at the corners of her mouth.

“And you wonder why exactly I think that you’re trouble.” He smarted back, returning her faint smile with a sigh. “I think... If we’re supposed to meet Ingram about building the Relay in the morning, we should probably head to bed before it gets too late.”

“Oh...” Nora murmured, looking back at the floor as she stepped back, dropping her hand with a start.

“You... You said you’d prefer to sleep nearby?” He asked carefully, nodding to the bed briefly as he dropped his hand to her upper arm. “You can stay here... I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you asking to take me to bed, Danse?” She quipped flirtatiously, grabbing his wrist as she pulled him back toward the mattress.

“I... No- Yes. Not in the way you’re thinking.” Danse rushed, running a hand through his hair as he noted her sudden hurt expression. “You’ve been drinking. _I’ve_ been drinking. I’d rather you make a decision like that completely sober.”

Nora could feel her heart drop and nodded quickly, swallowing back her pride. “Yeah of course. Maybe I should just go find Swinton- ”

“Nora.” He insisted, quickly grasping her shoulders as he met her eyes. “I don’t want to have any doubts about what you want here. I don’t want you to think... that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Okay.” She forced, her throat feeling suddenly parched under his heavy gaze.

“I... I can promise you, that I... I want to.” He confessed, bringing his hand up to the side of her face and pressing a gentle kiss against her lips before guiding her to the bed.

“You do?” Nora pressed as she laid down on the mattress, scanning Danse’s face as he settled next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders as he pulled her closer to him.

“I know... I know I’m not good at these sort of things... But I can assure you, you are breathtaking... And not _just_ because of how you look.” He whispered, offering a gentle smile the she quickly returned as relief flooded through her. “If anything happened to you... I honestly don't know what I'd do.”

“I... I feel the same way.” She admitted, curling against him as he pressed a quick kiss to her temple, before relaxing. “Goodnight, Danse.”

“Goodnight, Nora.” He whispered back, letting out a soft breath as she began tracing vague circles against his chest.


	37. Baby It's Just You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Waking up without a clue  
> 'Cause baby, it's just you  
> You leave me breathless, weak in the knees  
> I'm feeling reckless, pardon me please  
> The Fallout's blowing through  
> But baby, it's just you'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in ONE DAY. Granted, I'm sick as a dog and on the good meds courtesy of my doctor.

Danse woke with the sudden, achingly empty realization that he was alone. Where Nora had been so firmly pressed against him the night before, she was notably absent, the only indication that she had even been there was the half-empty bottle of bourbon on the night stand.

_Wasn’t that bottle still on the desk when we went to bed? Strange... Did she move it?_

He tried to look around the room, hoping to find her messing around with something in the corner or smirking at him as she rummaged through the bookcase she seemed so interested in the first time she’d snuck into his quarters. In an instant, he was struck by the realization of exactly what had transpired the previous night, followed by the oppressive sensation that he had done something profoundly wrong.

The feeling of having Nora kiss him so passionately was still fresh in his mind, even with the faint ache in the back of his head reminding him of the alcohol they’d shared only hours before. An almost imperceptible part of him had the aching thought that the only reason she’d kissed him was because of the bourbon, but even as he could still taste the bitter beverage on his lips, he knew better. It was blatantly clear that they were seemingly drawn to each other, and every warning of procedure was markedly absent when he was anywhere in her vicinity.

Except that he had apparently had made some sort of grievous misstep, given her silent departure. As he rose to stand, Danse couldn’t fight the sinking concern that Nora had changed her mind, or felt he had used in her in some manner. He quickly dressed and half bolted into the hallways, hoping to find her there.

_Maybe she just left and I can still catch her._

The clock on the wall verified that it was shortly after dawn, and he knew that there would undoubtedly be more of his fellow soldiers rousing soon. He could feel himself rushing forward, his feet operating independently from reason as he scanned the walkways for her familiar figure. But try as he might, he couldn’t find her, much less stave off the resounding panic growing in his chest.

Almost as soon as he rounded the corner toward the showers, he saw her, almost running directly into her as she was exiting the bathroom, clearly more focused on pulling her hair back than paying attention to where she was walking.

Nora looked up with a jump, the surprised expression immediately melting into her familiar warm smile as she met his eyes. “My apologies, _Paladin._ I didn’t see you there.”

And by god if her flirtatious tone didn’t answer every anxious question that had been buzzing around his mind in her absence.

“Knight Hartt.” He offered, unable to fight the small smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as she raised her eyebrow at the title, clearly amused by their feigned adherence to formalities. “It is always prudent to know where one is walking. We are on an airship after all.”

Nora wrinkled her nose at that and shook her head. “Please don’t remind me.”

“I shall do my best. Are you... well this morning?” Danse looked to the standard-issue toiletry bag he was holding.

“I’m doing great. Well, besides the fact that I’m starving. But I figured I’d get a head start on the day by hitting the restrooms before everyone else got up.” She nodded back to the bathrooms in explanation, watching him carefully to ensure he got her meaning.

_Of course, she didn’t want to risk anyone seeing her slip out this morning._

“That’s... understandable. It is always wise to wake early to prepare for the day.” He offered, noting the tension in her shoulders that released at his acknowledge. “I wouldn’t want your fellow soldiers to have any questions about your dedication to the Brotherhood, should you be found sleeping in.”

“My thoughts exactly. You know what they say-” Before she could finish, a brusque voice interrupted them from down the hall.

“Knight Hartt. You are to report to the command center immediately. It’s near the senior officer’s quarter. I assume you recall where that is located?” Maxson demanded, causing Danse to go suddenly still as Nora looked up at him with wide, panicked eyes.

“Yes sir.” She answered immediately, her voice wavering only slightly with uncertainty.

“Paladin Danse. You are to be in attendance as well... This concerns you both.” The words hung above them like smoke, the air suddenly heavy at what sounded more like a warning than an order.

“Of course, Elder.” Danse promised, maintaining an even tone as best he could despite the suffocating pressure of his heart beating against his chest.

“I’ll meet you two there as soon as I retrieve Lancer Swinton.” Maxson instructed as her turned and marched down the hall without so much as another glance in their direction.

“ _Fuck_.” Nora exclaimed quietly, letting an irritated grunt as she watched the Elder’s retreating figure in the distance.

Danse watched her anxious expression as her eyes darted around them, as if searching for answers. “Nora... Take a breath. We don’t know the nature of this meeting.”

“Like hell we don’t, Danse.” She hissed, her eyes turning dark an angry as she watched the open hallway intently. “I swear to God I’m going to kick Rebecca’s ass if she so much as -”

“We don’t _know_ anything, yet.” He insisted, letting out a faint sigh as he met her eyes. “But whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

Nora pressed her lips together with a nod.”You’re right. I guess there’s no use in delaying the inevitable.”

“Certainly not.” Danse confirmed, following behind her as she made her way back toward the very corridor where she had left no more than an hour before.

They were silent as they waiting inside the command center for Maxson to return, neither one daring to speak lest the say something out of turn. The gnawing sensation in Danse’s stomach as they stood in anticipation of the man’s return only grew ever more gutting with each resulting second.

When the door opened with a firm push, he saw Nora’s entire body tense as Maxson crossed the threshold, a miserable looking, half-asleep Swinton in tow. The pilot scanned the room, her eyes going wide as she saw them standing in the center of the room.

“Hartt... Danse...” Maxson stated, his tone cold and unforgiving as he looked between them slowly. “I can tell by your expressions that my suspicions are confirmed... You were obviously not in attendance of the festivities hosted by the lancers last night. Would that be correct?”

“Affirmative, sir.” Danse confirmed, the emptiness in his stomach only expounding as he watched Nora offered a curt nod in agreement.

“It would seem that you and your recruit were two of the only soldiers not in to partake in the event, at least not per my sources.” Maxson cocked his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at Swinton who was looking between the trio cautiously before continuing. “I am relieved to see that you two were able to maintain your discipline and not engaging in such antics. As it stands, I have another, more pressing matter than needs to be investigated down at the airport, regarding some missing rations. From our most recent inventory, a total of twelve crates of food seem to have just disappeared over the past few months. I believe the gravity of this matter goes without saying. Save for Knight-Sergeant Gavil and those who are in attendance today, no one is to know about the nature of this investigation. Are we clear, Paladin?”

“Of course, Elder Maxson. I will make sure that the mission details are confidential outside of anyone currently present.” Danse assured, letting out a quick breath he didn’t realize he was holding in until that very moment. Of all the possible things he’d expected the man to say, a mission briefing was the last thing he’d anticipated. At the very least, it seemed that he and Nora’s indiscretion the previous night had not garnered any suspicion.

Maxson nodded, looking back to Swinton. “The only reason you were included in this mission is because Paladin Danse and Knight Hartt are two of the very few people left who have not made a formal complaint about your impropriety... Whether that’s a matter of their patience or their limited time on board as of late has yet to be seen. You will make yourself available to them in whatever they may need.”

“Yes sir.” Swinton answered, her voice rough as it was undoubtedly compromised by the heavy drinking the previous night and resulting hangover she seemed to be suffering through.

Maxson offered a quick pause before nodding to the door. “You’re all dismissed.”

“Excuse me, Elder Maxson?” Nora interjected, taking a slight step forward as she spoke, erasing any remnant of Danse’s earlier relief

“Knight Hartt?” Maxson addressed, shooting Danse a brief, surprised glance before turning back to her.

“I am honored to be given such a significant mission, which I will gladly undertake in the name of the Brotherhood. However, I was wondering if my assistance would also be needed for work on the Relay?” The slight twitch of her hand at her side was the only indication Danse noticed of her anxiety regarding the request.

Maxson, fortunately, did not appear to register the nervousness. “Of course. As soon as you’re done with your investigation, I’m certain that Proctor Ingram would appreciate your help down at the airport. You are to be our first soldier to test the device, after all.”

“Thank you, sir. Ad victorium.” Nora offered, executing the salute that Maxson immediately returned with a brief smirk. As soon as she turned back to the door, she let out a slow breath, following behind Swinton who was obviously eager to slip out of the room.

“Well that went very differently than I was expecting.” Swinton grumbled, shooting them a brief glance. “Sorry about last night, kids.”

“You mean when you roped me in to saving Quinlan’s cat from Martinez? Seriously, _don’t mention it._ ” Nora answered firmly, the double meaning to the phrase evident as the younger woman just nodded in response.

“Let’s meet back at 0800 hours and head to the airport. Is that sufficient time for you to make yourself presentable, Lancer?” Danse interjected, not wanting to entertain the topic of the previous night so close to Maxson.

“Of course, sir. See you then.” Swinton agreed, looking back to her friend only momentarily before she headed down the hallway.

Danse followed silently, relieved when he saw Nora fall in step next to him as he made his way to the mess hall which was surprisingly almost empty.

He pointed toward the identifiable brown sludge that the knight on kitchen duty had the misfortune of serving that morning. “The stew isn't half bad... Well, as long as you don't smell it before you eat it.”

“I think I’ll take my risks with the razorgrain porridge.” Nora stated with a laugh, shaking her head as Danse grabbed the bowl from the grumpy young soldier.

“Suit yourself.”

“This kind of reminds me of the oatmeal my mom used to make...” She trailed off, taking a seat at the table in the corner. He noticed that it was the spot farthest from the counter, and took the opposite of her, watching as she seemed to look at something in the distance, lost in thought. After a few moments, she shrugged, looking back down at the pale grains. “Let's just say Maila was not known for her culinary prowess.”

“No?” He asked, watching as she stirred the sticky substance with her spoon.

“You know how you talked about Rhys and Haylen’s cooking skills? Well, I can confidently say that my mother makes them look like chefs.” She bit out a quick laugh, shaking her head as she continued. “Between her and my father it’s a miracle any of us kids even got fed.”

The thought was horrifying, to image that Nora’s parents were so neglectful to the needs of their children. “You must have been fairly self-sufficient then?”

She paused for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

“It’s a good skill to have.” Danse offered, watching as she toyed with the spoon thoughtfully.

“Remind me to send them a thank you note for their shitty parenting, delivered straight to Hell.” Nora stated sarcastically, letting out a small laugh at the thought. “I promised myself that I would never be like them.”

“Well by all accounts, you’re nothing like them.” At the reassurance, her lips transformed to a soft, genuine smile. “Shaun is lucky to have you as mother.”

“Thank you, Danse. That means a lot...” The tender tone of her voice and warm expression she regarded him with was breathtakingly heartfelt. She quickly cleared her throat, looking back toward the entrance where a few of their still half-asleep colleagues had just entered. “I should finish getting ready. Don’t want to keep Swinton waiting.”

“Affirmative.” He answered, standing to collect the empty bowls from the table. “We meet back at 0800 hours, Knight Hartt.”

As she stood up after him, she offered a brusque nod, mirroring his stoic expression. “Yes, sir. I appreciate it, Paladin.”

Danse watch as she made her way out of the mess hall, noticing the friendly smiles she seemed to get out of everyone so freely. It was like she was a celebrity in the eyes of their fellow soldiers. In a way, he thought that she sort of was. He made a mental note to pick up a copy of the newspaper article the reported had published that had Maxson in such a tizzy.

But of the two things he knew for sure, it was that Nora’s heart overflowed with a kindness of which the world would never be worthy, and that he absolutely never wanted to be away from such radiant compassion.

*

Nora watched as Swinton tried and failed to get her gig line straight for the third time, fighting back a chuckle at the younger woman’s frustrated sigh.

“You know what? Fuck you an the radstag you rode in on, Nora. I am way too hung over for this shit.” Swinton griped, glaring at her from the corner of her eye as she adjusted her utility belt once more.

“Top ten things you want to hear from your pilot before a flight.” Nora grumbled, shooting her a look of warning. “If I get sick in your Vertibird, that’s your problem.”

“You know what? I’m going to make the ride extra bumpy, just for you.” Swinton threatened with a wag of her finger. “Never piss off your lancer. That’s like, lesson one.”

“And you want to complain about my sparkling personality.” She smarted, watching her friend’s annoyed expression with a small smirk.

“Oh yeah? Speaking of, did you show Danse any of all that sparkling personality last night?” Nora could feel herself going beet red as Swinton opened her mouth in shock, continuing before the former could offer any sort of objection. “You did? Oh my God. I thought I imagined that whole conversation.”

The pilot burst into raucous laughter, causing a few of the still intoxicated pilots in the other room to mutter a volley of curse words and ‘shut ups’ through the doorway.

“Nothing happened.” Nora insisted, suddenly afraid their voices might carry more than she’d hoped. “I just had a question about where Quinlan keeps the cat food. I _did_ have to rescue the poor thing from certain peril, because you and your buddy Martinez are a couple of damn menaces when you drink together.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“I swear to God, Becks -” She objected in a hushed tone, shooting a look back to the bunk room in explanation.

“I got it. You were looking for cat food.” Swinton agreed, walking to the hallway with a nod as she muffled a faint laugh before adding in a whisper. “Did Danse find anything for the kitty to eat?”

“I will shove you off of this edge of this ship.” Nora stated back, her tone dry and sarcastic as she followed her plucky young friend to the flight deck.

“I think that would hurt less than my head, at the moment.” The pilot bemoaned, pushing open the door with a sigh.

“That’s what happens when you drink copious amounts of alcohol before a shift.” Nora chastised, shaking her head at the sheer dramatics.

“I _was_ supposed to be off today. This is Maxson’s form of punishment for my involvement in the party.” Swinton complained, moving to step into the closest Vertibird with a smug grin. “It was so worth it though.”

“Try and remember that when you’re sitting in the sun on the roof of the airport all day.” Nora immediately buckled herself into the harness, double checking the clasps with a fervent intensity.

Swinton leaned her head out of the side of the aircraft with a cheeky smirk. “Hey Paladin, I almost didn’t recognize you out of your Power Armor. I half thought you slept in that shit.”

“I can assure you, that is not the designated use of such advanced technology.” Danse retorted dryly as he stepping into the Vertibird. “On a more personal note, I’ve been told it’s rather uncomfortable if one would attempt to do so. ”

“On a personal note? I didn’t know we were friends now.” The pilot looked back and raised her eyebrows theatrically as she fastened herself into the front seat. “I feel honored, sir. Unless it’s Miss Nora here you’re getting personal with.”

“Just fly the damn bird, Swinton.” He grumbled, quickly clipping the harness to his suit and fastening the straps. Nora could feel herself go red at the comment, a fact which was not lost on the younger woman who let out a quick chuckle.

“For you sir? Certainly.” Swinton called back, shooting them a quick glance to ensure they were buckled in before toggling the switches, causing the aircraft to grind to life.

As soon as the Vertibird lurched forward, Nora had the horrifying sensation of her stomach dropping straight to the ground below and she immediately slammed her eyes shut, trying to slow the race of her pulse.

Almost immediately, she felt Danse reach forward and take her hand, interlocking their fingers together as he leaned close to be heard over the noise of the aircraft. “Despite her blatant insubordination, I have absolute confidence in Lancer Swinton’s flight capabilities.”

Nora quickly squeezed his hand, nodded softly as she focused on the comforting contact of his hand, refusing to so much as look out the window. “Thank you.”

“You guys are so sweet, it makes me want to barf.” Swinton called over the roar of the propellers.

“Pretty sure that’s all the vodka you drank, Becks.” Nora immediately smarted back, catching Danse’s annoyed scowl at the woman from the corner of her eye.

“Mmm. No, I don’t think so.” The smug voice sang back, just as the airport helipad came into view.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Swinton. I’m simply offering a fellow soldier some reassurance in a time of distress.” Danse claimed, his tone firm and even as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of Nora’s hand. The fact that he didn’t pull away upon being caught sent a jolt of affection through her chest that she didn’t even try to stymie.

“Oh yeah? Kinda like how me and Neriah end up in the same bunk sometimes to save space?” Swinton demanded, toggling the gears once more as the aircraft began to descend.

“Precisely.” He confirmed sarcastically, offering her hand another gentle squeeze before releasing it, gesturing down to the figures on the ground in explanation as Nora nodded in response.

Swinton docked the Vertibird with surprising ease and started waving them out of the aircraft only moments after landing. “I would very much like to take a nap while you two go play detective... so scram.”

“Scram? Did you just say ‘scram?” Nora demanded, unbuckling her harness and coming to a stand.

The pilot looked up at her with a shrug. “Isn’t that why you said back in your time?”

“I’m not that old, Jesus.” Nora complained, shooting the young woman an indignant glare.

“To be quite fair, you _were_ technically born two hundred years ago.” Danse interjected as he stepped down, out of the Vertibird, offering his hand toward her for balance, which she begrudgingly took.

“Hell yeah, I knew there was a sense of human under all the armor!” Swinton bragged, raising her eyebrow only briefly at the extra second Danse’s hand lingered in Nora’s, before quickly dropping it back to his side.

Nora glanced back to Danse with a look of warning. “If you two are quite done, some of us have work to do.”

Swinton rolled her eyes and pulled out a pair of obnoxiously over sized sunglasses from under the seat, placing them on her face and settling back into the pilot’s seat with a huff.

“Knight-Sergeant Gavil will likely be down the stairs.” Danse stated, indicating what used to be a functional escalator.

The revelation that she was actually standing in the remains of what used to be the Boston Airport hit Nora like a ton of bricks, and she stared down at what was previously Terminal A, completely frozen for several painfully long moments before she could form any words.

“It looks so different.” She whispered, her voice wavering slightly as she quickly swallowed, shaking off the sudden swell of emotion in her chest. “Sorry, you said down the stairs?”

Danse’s eyes went wide as he realized the implication of her words. “I apologize, I didn’t think to consider-”

“It’s okay. Let’s just focus on this investigation.” She insisted, walking toward the worn escalator before he could offer any sort of objection.

As they made it to the ground floor and turned the corner, Danse pointed toward a door ahead of them. “That would be the supply depot. Gavil should just be coming on duty at this hour.”

Nora nodded and pushed the door open, almost immediately coming face to face with an irritated looking gentleman who was staring down at the worn clipboard in his hands.

“Let me guess. Captain Kells sent you?” He bit out, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Actually it was Elder Maxson himself. I take it that you're in charge here?” She answered, mustering every ounce of authority she could find.

_Not that being aggressive was ever one of my strong suits. Oh if the brass could see me now..._

Gavil let out an angry scoff, shaking his head as he gripped the clipboard in his hands. "Maxson is sending the rook to investigate the missing supplies from my store room?"

"That's right. So how about we have this discussion somewhere more private, _sir_?” Nora offered, trying to match his air of authority as best she could. “The Elder wants to keep this under wraps as much as possible.”

"Fine. Follow me.” He muttered, shooting Danse a quick look as he pointed back to the room, leading the way inside. “We've converted this section of the terminal into our primary supply depot. Everything the Brotherhood needs to operate passes through here. Supplies from the Prydwen. Salvage from the field. We handle it all.”

"And who is exactly is 'we'?” She prodded, scanning the room immediately for all the potential avenues of ingress and egress.

“Access is strictly limited to the Logistics detail. And we track every crate, every bullet, every bolt that comes through that door." Gavil maintained, his tone growing more clipped and direct with each word.

Nora forced a saccharine smile to her face and crossed her arms as she turned her attention back toward him. "So the soldiers in your division are the only ones who can move through here freely? Is that correct?”

“Listen, Hartt is it? I know every soldier in this unit. The thought that anyone would question their loyalty makes me sick. Which is why I don't take _kindly_ to these accusations.” He warned, the anger in his voice no longer masked as he continued. “Do you have any more questions? Because if so, ask. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”

Before she could react, Danse immediately stepped forward, glaring down at the other man. “Watch your tone, Sergeant. Might I remind you that Knight Hartt is here under Maxson’s direct authority. You will show her all the respect of which she is due. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir. I apologize.” Gavil rushed, seeming to completely deflate at the denunciation “Any thing you need, just ask. Clarke and Lucia should be working now, if you’d like to speak with them.”

“Thank you for your help, sir.” Nora stated carefully, trying very hard not to pay any attention to the heat creeping up the back of her neck which was accompanied by a sudden thrill that was inspiring unchaste thoughts at the fact that Danse had so readily come to her defense, even going so far as to pull rank with the other man. She quickly made her way further into the terminal, searching for the personnel in question.

“Are you quite alright?” Danse asked quietly, leaning forward slightly to inspect her sudden change in color.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, nodding to the hallway where the faint sounds of a hushed argument could be heard.

He frowned, scanning her face intently “You look flushed. Are you certain you’re not -”

“Danse.” She whispered back, meeting his eyes immediately. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Why would we discuss this later? You look rather warm-”

_This man is a dense as a loaf of razorgrain bread, I swear._

“Jesus Christ-” She exclaimed under her breath, swallowing quickly as she watched his confused expression.

“ _Oh._ ” He stated instantly, his eyes going wide at the realization of exactly why she was turning her particular shade of red. “I... Really?”

“Please stop talking.” Nora begged, noticing the content smile that was pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Before he could formulate a response, an irritated young man rounded the corner, glaring furiously at the ground before he noticed them. “Sir. Ma’am.”

_Did this boy just call me ma’am?_

“Now I really feel old.” She grumbled, shooting an amused glance back at Danse before turning to the new arrival. “Let me guess... Clarke? You don’t look like a Lucia, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“Yeah... I’m Initiate Clarke. Is there something I can do for you?” He asked, eyeing them nervously.

“I’m Knight Hartt.” Nora nodded back to Danse. “I assume you already know Paladin Danse. We’re conducting an investigation into the missing supplies and we have some questions for you. Is that alright?”

“This is a formal investigation now?” He demanded, before quickly back pedaling with a softer tone. “I- Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, Knight Hartt. What is it that you want to know?”

His sudden jump to the defensive didn’t escape her attention, but she was careful not to allow her face to show her metaphorical hand. “Well, you clearly know about why we’re here, so lets start with what rumors you’ve heard?”

“I’ve heard all sorts of crazy shi- stuff. Some of the guys are saying it’s Raiders with Stealth Boys sneaking in here at night. Others are claiming it’s Institute synths, but it’s all a bunch of garbage. I work mids. Believe me, the most dangerous thing in here is the boredom. I’m pretty sure I’ve almost died of it several times.” Clarke answered sarcastically, his tone displaying his obvious annoyance.

“You’re funny, kid. It’s good to have a sense of humor, especially on the overnight shift.” Nora quipped, hoping to establish some sense of rapport with him.

“Yeah? Thanks...” The young man seemed to relax at the compliment before elaborating further. “Listen, I think Teagan’s scribes just mucked up the books. Nothing is coming in or out of here that’s not marked.”

She immediately notice the twitch of his hand, and offered a forced smile in response. “Thank you, Clarke. We appreciate the honesty.”

“Uh... Yeah, of course.” Clarke rushed nervously, clearing his throat as he looked back at a pile of papers next to a terminal. “I’m sorry, but I need to get back to work.”

“I won’t keep you. But, let us know if you hear anything... Maxson is taking a personal interest in locating the whereabouts of the missing supplies.” She knew that the statement came across more like a warning, and given the sudden drain of color from Clarke’s face, he caught the implication of the wording.

“Yes ma’am. Sir.” He answered, looking to Danse briefly as he turned away.

Nora shot a quick look back at Danse who was also watching the other man with a look of distrust. As soon as he met her eyes, he nodded faintly. “I share you concern, but it would be pertinent to interview Initiate Lucia as well.”

“Of course, Paladin.” She agreed, watching as he hesitated briefly before looking to the hallway Clarke had exited.

At the end of the hall, they caught sight of a thin young woman muttering to herself as she sorted what appeared to be spools of wire. Danse cleared his throat, causing the woman to jump, knocking over the carefully stacked supplies.

“Oh!” The woman explained, turning to them with a start. “I'm sorry about that, I, uh, I don't think we've met. What can I do for you, ma'am?”

“Initiate Lucia, I presume?” Nora asked, watching as the woman looked back and forth between them and scattered wire on the floor.

“I- Yes.” Lucia looked back to Danse nervously before letting out a heavy sigh. “I know you're here about the missing supplies. It's... not exactly a secret. I'm not sure I can be of much help, but I can tell you everything I know.”

“We would really appreciate that.” Nora confirmed, gesturing to to supplies on the floor. “How about I help you get that picked up and you tell me what you know?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you.” Lucia knelt down and began gathering the spools of wire and other supplied, shooting Nora an appreciative glance as she and Danse followed suit. “I've heard it's mostly food. And... vacuum tubes? Wait... No, sorry, they just lost those.”

She raised her eyebrow at the new information, carefully choosing her words before replying. “Do things get lost often down here?”

“No, not really. The vacuum tubes were just mislabeled... But all that food? There’s no way that it’s a clerical error... The only people who can get anything in and out of here are the Logistics crew. I know Knight-Sergeant Gavil doesn’t want to admit it, but it has to be someone here.” Lucia let out a sad sigh, shaking her head. “I don’t understand why anyone would steal the supplies. The Brotherhood gives us everything we could ever need.”

Nora stood, reorganizing the spools of wire quietly for several long moments, shooting Danse a quick look. “Thank you Lucia. Before we go, I have to ask, is there anyone here who has been acting different the past couple months?”

“No ma’am.” Lucia reassured, meeting her gaze firmly before gesturing to the tangled mess of wires. “Is that all? I’m sorry, I’m just running behind today.”

“Absolutely. Let me know if you hear anything.” Nora answered, turning back down the hallway with a wave and nodding to what one was a fire exit.

Danse immediately followed her out the door, his eyebrows drawn together in though. Almost as soon as the door closed, he cleared his throat. “They were both clearly hiding something, but I find Initiate Clarke’s behavior far more suspicious than Initiate Lucia’s.”

“Yeah... I think Lucia is covering for him about something.” She muttered, trying to piece together the discrepancies in their exchange. “I don’t think she knows about the supplies, but when I asked if anyone was acting strangely, she was really quick to meet my eyes.”

He frowned, seeming to consider her words. “Is that... strictly suspicious?”

“Not in itself, no. But the entire time we were talking before that, she was more focused on the tangled up wires. I still think Clarke’s the better lead for now, though.” Nora offered a small smirk, opening her hand to show the small keyring she’d picked up from the supplies that they helped Lucia pick up. “If all else fails, we can always break into her shit.”

“You... You stole her keys? Is that how you conducted investigations in your time?” He accused, reaching to take the keys from her outstretched hand.

“Definitely not. Well... _I_ certainly didn’t, at least.” She paused, thinking about how drastically different her opinion on ethics and morality had become in the wasteland. “To be fair, I did say it was a last resort.”

Danse let out an audible sigh, shaking his head as he pocketed the keys. “A very last resort.”

“I’m corrupting you, you know... What would Elder Maxson say?” Nora teased, not bothering to hide the flirtatious tone in her voice.

“He would not be pleased.” He answered with a small, wry smile, scanning her face briefly before adding. “I suppose it’s a good thing he’s not aware of such corruption.”

“I suppose so. It’s a good thing too, because I _very_ much like corrupting you.” At Danse’s flustered expression, she hummed her approval, watching as he quickly tried to recompose himself.

“Is that so?”

Before she could answer, the sound of approaching footsteps along the dried foliage drew their attention and she immediately pulled him behind the crumbling remains of what had once been a wall, relieved for the lack of bulky Power Armor that would give away their position in an instant.

Clarke came into view just around the wall, pacing nervously as he seemed to mumble to himself imperceptibly. The young man looked around anxiously before heading toward a chained door at the edge of the airport, checking over his shoulder as he undid the chain and slipped inside.

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Nora muttered, more to herself than anything as she tried to come up with a plan.

Danse looked over to her, his frown evident. “If we both go charging in there, he’s going to panic. But I’m not comfortable with the idea of you confronting him alone.”

“You and me both... I think I can talk him down, if you just want to stay a few paces back in case shit goes south.” She offered, trying to think of any other alternative but coming up empty handed.

He nodded as he moved to stand. “It does seem to be a logical compromise.”

Nora couldn’t stop the small twitch of a smile that tugged at her lips at his words. “Come on. Let’s go see a man about some Blamco.”

*

Of all the possibilities she had envisioned finding responsible for the missing crates of food it certainly wasn’t the scene she’d happened upon in the old terminal ruins. If it had actually been Raiders with Stealth Boys she could understand. If Clarke was feeding runaway synths or had a secret family back home that he was funneling supplied to, it would have at least made _sense._

But as soon as Nora has seen Clarke throwing the food into the horde of feral ghouls, she stood frozen in shock for a good five minutes, trying to process the absolute lunacy of what she was seeing. Because even the most compassionate, sympathetic souls in the world wouldn’t go so far as to believe feeding feral ghouls was anything other than insane. Even Preston of all people had no qualms about putting the poor souls out of their misery.

“Easy now. Hang on.” Clarke called out, opening another can of Cram and tossing it into the group below.

She could hear Danse approach from behind her, his eyes going wide in shock at the scene just as her own had. “Initiate Clarke is....He’s -”

“Feeding feral ghouls... Yeah.” Nora confirmed, pressing her lips into a thin line as she tried to figure out her angle and how the hell she was going to keep a straight face while agreeing with whatever story the young man would use to justify the situation. “Do you know if he’s had any sort of stressors recently?”

“Not off hand, no. I was unable to train with the newest wave of recruits due to the reconnaissance mission in Cambridge.” He answered with a frown, watching her nervous expression as she carefully peered through the window.

“I think he’s had some sort of recent trauma...” She let out an irritated sigh. “I only see this going one of two ways. Either we can talk him down, play into whatever delusion he's experiencing and get him to Cade for a full psych eval, or he’s going to turn hostile.”

Danse nodded in agreement, looking back at the younger man with an apprehensive concern. “I’ll allow you to take the lead here... It has been said that I lack _finesse_.”

Nora could feel the wave of heat through her face at the comment, recalling her previous statement about his lack of such an attribute. The amused look he shot her as he noticed her sudden blush confirmed her suspicions that the wording was intentional. “Remind me to teach you about appropriate times to flirt, Danse.”

“I’m not entirely certain that you of all people should be teaching that particular subject.” He retorted, entertaining a brief smile at her indignant expression, before turning back to the window. “But I am confident that you will be able to resolve this peacefully.”

“Verbal judo, here we go.” She muttered, carefully making her way forward through the corridor, pausing intermittently to listen for any unexpected movement.

The sound of her boot on an old, crinkled newspaper is what gave her away, alerting a terrified Clarke to her presence. “Huh? Who's there? Come out, now! I-I’m armed!”

“It’s okay Clarke.” Nora called out, raising her pistol toward the entrance at the end of the hallway, watching him through the corner of the closest window. “No one is trying to hurt you. We all want to go home at the end of the night, yeah?”

“I-Shit. Knight Hartt? Oh God why did _you_ have to follow me!” He demanded as he started pacing, his gun still in his hand as he looked between the door

“Clarke, my dear, can you put down the gun? I’ll holster mine if you holster yours.” She offered, keeping her eyes trained on his erratic movements.

“How do I know you’re not going to just shoot me?” Clarke countered, relaxing his grip slightly on the gun and running a hand over his head.

“I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want to happen here.” She paused, shooting a quick look to Danse as she lowered her pistol, looking between his rifle and the window in what she hoped was an instruction. “I’m holstering my pistol, okay? My laser rifle is still on my back, but I’m doing this as a sign of good faith. Can you promise not to shoot me?"

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The answer was nervous and heartbreakingly sad, striking a vein of pity through her chest.

“I know you don’t, Clarke. You’re a good kid, I can see that. I see that you care and that you’re trying to help.” Nora closed her eyes, trying to remember anything from her hostage negotiation course she’d half slept through. “Do you- Do you know who I am? About my son?”

“I...” He paused, lowering his gun to his side, though she noticed his finger still flush against the trigger guard. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“Okay Clarke. I’m coming around the corner now, I really need you to promise not to shoot me. I still need to find my son, and... And he’s a little boy, he still really needs his mom, okay?” Nora was only vaguely aware of the crack in her voice over the echo of her heart beat pounding in her ears, the adrenaline soaring through her in waves as she forced her hands up in a gesture of vulnerable surrender. She really hoped she wasn’t going to have to test the ballistic merits of her chest plate.

As soon as he saw her come around the corner, he placed the gun on the desk, looking at the ground in shame. “Dammit... I thought I was being careful.”

“This is where the supplies went?” She asked, nodding to the open crate of food. “You’ve been feeding the ferals?”

“Yes... I knew someone was bound to catch me eventually. I couldn’t keep this up forever.” He admitted, looking toward her with a sigh.

“ _Why_?”

“I had a friend who was a ghoul, once. As human as you or me, but the Brotherhood... the Brotherhood says ghouls are abominations. That they all deserve to die. Would you kill him, too? Just because of who he is?” Clarke asked, his voice a near plea as he watched her expression soften.

“Sweetie, that’s very different. The Brotherhood does not condone the killing of ghouls unless they’re feral.” Nora offered gently, watching as the group of ghouls climbed mindlessly over each other in the room below.

“Doe it make a difference?” He begged, his voice cracking in a way that only tugged at her heart strings even more. “Weren't they all human once?”

“Yes, they were. But what they’ve become... Their brains are literally rotting in their skulls, it happens painfully slow, until any semblance of who they were is stripped away. It’s inhumane to prolong that suffering. Would you want to be forced to live such a brutal existence? Decaying until your only resolution is violence?” At the question, she saw Clarke flinch, looking back to the ferals with a nervous frown.

“But they’re not violent, not when I give them food.” He maintained, pointing to the group in explanation. “They’re just hungry!”

“Clarke...” Nora closed her eyes before continuing. She didn’t want to have to use the knowledge of their fellow soldiers death in such a manner, but he was leaving her little choice in the matter. “Does the name Knight Rylan mean anything to you?”

“Rylan? He... He worked in the terminal with me, he was helping me... Did they-” Clarke paused, catching sight of the chain in her hand with a sudden sob. “Oh my God. They killed him? This is my fault. I killed him.”

“No.” She insisted, cautiously moving toward him and extending the chain toward the young man as an offering. “You did not do this. The ferals killed him, but this is not your fault. You can not carry his death on your shoulders. It'll eat you alive.”

“I was just trying to help... If I didn’t feed them they’d have attacked the base.” Clarke looked back up at her extended hand, carefully taking the holotags and examining them. “Do you... Do you think I did the right thing?”

Nora paused for a minute to allow herself to offer the most honest and genuine response without outright condoning his actions. “I think you did the compassionate thing and tried to help a group that no one else would. I _honestly_ believe that misguided kindness in a world full of hate is more important and more powerful than anything you could ever learn in training.”

He nodded at her words, his face falling even more than before. “What... What do I do now? I know Danse is with you somewhere and even though you understand, he won’t.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss Paladin Danse, he is just as full of compassion and understanding, even if he hides it under ten tons of metal armor.” She quipped, half amused at the thought of Danse’s irate frown upon hearing her analysis of his personality.

“I know you two always run together...” Clarke let a resigned breath of air, looking to the corridor behind her dejectedly. “He’s in the hallway behind you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, of course he is.” She confirmed, shooting Danse a quick look as he entered the room slowly, dropping his rifle to ready gun, but still holding it tight enough that he could react immediately, just in case. “As for the matter of the missing rations, the right thing to do here is to turn yourself in. I don’t imagine Maxson is particularly keen to execute initiates over some stolen Blamco and Cram, but you _do_ need be ready to accept whatever punishment he deigns appropriate. You know you could be removed from the Brotherhood for this.”

“I suppose so... The Elder will never understand, but... it's the honorable thing to do. He might respect that, at least.” Clarke agreed, shaking his head in frustration.

“Whatever happens, you will walk away from it with your dignity and the knowledge that you did what you truly believed was right. And if you ever need some place safe to go, I know of a few settlements that are ready to welcome anyone with open arms...” She hesitated briefly before clarifying. “People _and_ ghouls alike.”

At her words, Clarke’s eyes lit up, a glimmer of hope in the sea of sadness. “You know of settlements for people and ghouls? They live together?”

“Yeah, kid. Some of them even get married and shit. It's not like the Brotherhood, there’s no rules out there.” Nora waved her hand as if gesturing to the invisible horizon.

“Knight Hartt.” Danse warned, cognizant of her walk with the line of insubordination for implying anything negative of the Brotherhood's procedures.

“I’m just saying, if you need somewhere to go, you have options. As Paladin Danse here mentioned to me a few weeks back, this life isn't for everyone...” She briefly looked at Danse with a faint smile, before turning back to the younger man. “There are people who can not and should not be engaged in combat. It doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with you, it just means you don’t want to be a soldier. And Clarke? That’s perfectly okay.”

He looked up at her and nodded, a sudden relief settling over his featured. “Thank you. I can’t begin to explain how much this means to me. Anyone else would've probably killed me...”

“You have a big heart my dear. Go out and do something good with it.” Nora answered, pointing to the elevator in the corner. “Now, normally I’m opposed to those metal coffins on principle, but I have feral blood in my socks, so please tell me it works.”

Clarke offered her a small smile as he unclipped the key card from his belt and handed it to her. “I’ll be up to speak with the Elder in a minute. I just need a few minutes to collect my thoughts.”

“Take you time. I know you’ll do the right thing.” She turned toward Danse, gesturing to the elevator which he slowly followed her to, looking back at Clarke only briefly before entering.

As the door closed, he looked over at her, scanning her face carefully. “You really believe what you told him.”

“Eh, most of it.” She shrugged, glancing up at him with a sad smile. “You think that Maxson will throw him out instead of just make him work off the debt?”

“I think that stripping Clarke of his rank and place in the Brotherhood is the very least Maxson will accept. If he’s not brought up on charges it’ll be nothing short of unprecedented.” Danse admitted, frowning at the thought.

“Well, let’s hope the Elder is feeling generous today.” She muttered, forcing a tense smile to her face as she exited the elevator and started toward the helipad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fine, have another happy chapter. But next chapter is going to be no good. You were warned.


	38. Good Rockin' Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Have you heard the news, everybody's rockin' tonight  
> I'm gonna hold my baby as tight as I can'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters act without my input. I am just the speaker, relaying the input from the microphone they scream into.
> 
> Ugh. NSFW. Read the tags. Yall click the adult content warning every time so....

Almost as soon as they made it to the airport helipad, Elder Maxson himself appeared from behind the control panel where Proctor Ingram was eagerly typing away on the terminal. Much like with their previous mission at Fort Strong, Danse couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the elder was keeping surprisingly close tabs on their progress.

It certainly didn’t help that they _were_ actually hiding more than a few things from the elder that would signal the downfall for both himself and Nora, and given Maxson’s apparent rapt interest in her professional development as of late, Danse felt suddenly uneasy upon seeing the man.

“Wonderful news, Paladin. Knight.” Maxson paused, watching Nora for a heavy moment before offering the briefest of smiles and turning back toward Ingram. “Proctor Ingram here has finished analyzing the blueprints on the holotape you located and successful construction of the device appears to be entirely plausible. We have every available scribe working on the Molecular Relay, either sourcing the few remaining pieces we’re missing or by helping with the build itself.”

“If we work round the clock on this I think we can have her up and working by the end of the week at the latest.” Ingram interjected, shooting a quick look to Nora who had gone as still as a statue at the news. “But I can promise ya, we’re not putting you in until I’ve ran every possible test we have.”

“I appreciate that.” Nora answered dryly, looking over toward the Vertibird where Swinton was not so subtly peeking her head around the opening to overhear the conversation. “Personally, I think that being ripped apart atom by atom sounds like a bad trip.”

Danse frowned at the sarcastic response, not wanting to entertain the very real possibility that by the end of the week he might have to watch the woman who had become such a crucial part of his life disappear into nothing more than a painful memory. He was not one to become ill from stress, but the thought made him feel instantly nauseous.

Noting the tilt of Maxson’s head at the comment, and Danse quickly tried to redirect the younger man’s focus. “I assure you, Knight Hartt, Proctor Ingram would not allow you to utilize the Relay without minimizing all of the potential risks. I am confident that her expertise on the construction of this device will ensure that there are no unforeseen complications.”

“Danse, if this is your way of buttering me up to tell me you broke yet another helmet, you can cut the crap.” Ingram grumbled, but the brief smirk that crossed her face revealed that the comment was purely in jest.

Maxson turned to Nora, relaxing his stern expression slightly. “Knight Hartt, I am not ignorant of the inherent risks associated with an undertaking of this significance. While I too have faith in Proctor Ingram’s capabilities, this is going to be the first time we've attempted to directly adapt Institute technology. We are all aware of the risk you've agreed to undertake and we salute you.” 

Nora offered a uncomfortable smile in response, before nodding, her voice cold and composed. “Nothing's going to stop me when I'm so close. After everything I’ve had to do to get here... This is going to work, it _has_ to work...”

“I admire your determination and it’s clearly served you well thus far. Your bravery in the face of the unknown exemplifies what it means to be part of the Brotherhood.” Maxson answered proudly, shooting a look of clear approval back toward Danse who just nodded in response. “On another note, please be certain to immediately abridge me of your findings regarding your current mission, once you complete your investigation.”

“Actually, Knight Hartt has already completed the investigation and identified the culprit.” Danse explained, unable to fight the sense of pride blooming in his chest at how efficient they had worked as a team.

“Is that so? That’s rather quick... You’re quite sure you’ve identified the correct person responsible?” Maxson pressed, narrowing his eyes quizzical, the inherent tone of doubt unmistakable.

“Affirmative, sir. Initiate Clarke was taking the rations out of the supply depot during his shift.” The younger man looked toward him with a shocked expression at Danse’s revelation.

“And for what purpose?”

“We caught Initiate Clarke feeding the rations to a horde of feral ghouls located beneath the airport, Elder.” Danse paused only momentarily before continuing. “He states that he was trying to keep them from attacking the supply depot.”

“That is beyond asinine, if there was an infestation of ferals underneath the airport they should have been executed!” Maxson bellowed, his face etched with frustration. “Where is he now? I will have him brought up on formal charges for his treason.”

“What? He’s just a kid! You can’t be serious.” Nora challenged, her instantaneous fury near-palpable as a hush fell over the group, drowning out any hope of secrecy regarding her direct confrontation of their elder.

The outburst sent a surge of dread through Danse, who watched hopelessly as Maxson went suddenly still and slowly turned toward her with a cold expression. “Are you questioning my judgment here, _Knight?_ ”

Nora’s eyes went wide as she seemed to realize the gravity of her exclamation, and she quickly took a heavy breath before answering. “I apologize for my lack of decorum, sir. I meant no disrespect, I only meant to state that Initiate Clarke is very young, and he’s undeniably naive on how an organization such as the Brotherhood of Steel operates. I understand that his behavior is inexcusable, but given that he acted in an albeit misguided attempt to protect his fellow soldiers, I was hoping that his punishment could be more... _compassionate_ than what you’re proposing.”

“And what sort of would you recommend as a _compassionate_ alternative, Knight Hartt?” Maxson retorted, moving directly in front of where she was standing to glare down at her.

The sight sent an unexpected wave of panic through Danse and he cleared his throat abruptly. “Elder Maxson, I simply believe that Knight Hartt was just-”

Maxson raised his hand, immediately cutting off any further discussion. “Thank you for your input, Paladin. But I asked your recruit a question and I expect an answer from _her_.”

Nora shot a brief, terrified look toward Danse before answering, quickly tensing her shoulders and fixing her steeled gaze on the elder. “I suggest that Initiate Clarke be striped of his rank and removed from the Brotherhood ranks post haste. His behavior is unbecoming of a Brotherhood soldier, but given his fairly recent induction it’s unnecessarily cruel to bring him up on charges which I truly don’t think he can appreciate the gravity of.”

“Interesting.” Maxson stated plainly, turning back to the control panel to look at Ingram who was staring down at the terminal screen with feigned interest in lieu of risking a glance to the tense scene before her.

The resulting silence that hung over the group was oppressive, squeezing the air straight out of Danse’s lungs as the seconds passed by terrifyingly slow. Even Swinton had disappeared back inside the safety of the Vertibird, clearly not wanting to become an additional victim of the coming punishment that he was sure Maxson was going to dispense.

When Maxson finally turned back around, stepping uncomfortably close to Nora, he offered a brief smirk before speaking. “I had heard from Paladin Brandis and Knight-Captain Cade about your proclivity for... empathy. I suppose I can see why they, along with many of your fellow soldiers, have been adamant about singing your praises despite your flagrant lack of adherence to convention. I will admit, compassion is not something I typically consider when determining acceptable punishment for Brotherhood soldiers... But, given your testimony of Clarke’s alleged intent and assuming he freely admits to his transgressions, I am inclined to agree to your suggested disciplinary action.”

Any relieve that Danse felt at the elder’s unanticipated amicability was immediately squandered as the man continued. “That being said, I’m disappointed to learn that as someone inducted under Paladin Danse’s explicit assurance of your merit and promoted so quickly, on his word alone might I add, that you are prone to such insolence. I suggest that you correct your attitude or your career with the Brotherhood will be quite brief. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir.” Nora rushed, her expression suddenly relieved and appreciative.”Thank you for your patience with me. I know I was out of line, Elder.”

“I... I trust you won’t make the same mistake a second time.” Maxson replied, his stern expression dropping momentarily at the rare display of politeness, before turning back to it’s typical controlled countenance in an instant. “As for your next assignment, given the uncertain timeline of the Relay’s construction, you are to be made available for deployment immediately upon it’s completion. That means sending you out on any reconnaissance missions is completely out of the question. You are to stay either on board the Prydwen or at the airport until then. Feel free to assist Proctor Ingram or Knight Captain-Cade over the next few days, they will have plenty for you to do, should you wish to stay busy.”

“Thank you again, sir.” She answered eagerly, meeting Danse’s eyes only for a fraction of a second before looking back to the younger man.

“You’re dismissed, Knight Hartt.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Nora nodded firmly, leaving immediately to climb into Swinton's Vertibird and disappearing inside in mere seconds.

Maxson slowly made his way back to where Danse was waiting, scanning his face carefully. “Paladin, please be sure that you keep a close eye on your recruit... I don’t think I need to explain my concerns regarding her loyalty to the Brotherhood, given her recent behavior. Don’t give me a reason to doubt where yours lie as well.”

“Absolutely, sir. I’ll be certain to monitor her progress thoroughly.” Danse promised, his tone remarkably calm, even as he was hopelessly trying not to take note of the inherent irony of the statement. He dreaded to think what would happen if Maxson knew precisely how thoroughly he had been examining Nora.

“To be quite frank, I’m surprised you haven’t reprimanded her for such insubordination already.” Maxson prodded, clearly toying with unspoken implication that Danse had been lackadaisical in his responsibilities as a mentor.

“I hadn’t observed any such behavior warranting a formal write up before today. I have absolute faith that the behavior will not continue.” The lie rolled of his tongue reflexively, and as much as the realization should have bothered him, Danse couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Nora’s position in the Brotherhood was at stake.

Maxson hesitated for a second before relaxing at the assurance. “Very well. Feel free to take the day off, if you so desire. The reality that one of your own is readily sacrificing themselves for our mission is a sobering one, much less someone that you personally recruited...”

_You have no idea._

“It certainly is. Thank you, sir. Ad Victorium.” Danse stated, offering a salute which the other man quickly returned, before making his way to the Vertibird with a frown.

Nora looked up from where she was seated with her head in her hands, her eyes going wide with panic when she looked up at him. As much as he wanted to be mad at her for her blatant disrespect toward Maxson, and as much as he knew he should be, he just couldn’t bring himself to harbor any frustration toward her. Certainly not when she was regarding him with something so akin to fear. She watched him carefully, as if expecting him to lash out or admonish her, but instead he sat down next to her with a sigh, buckling himself into the harness with a nod to Swinton, who for once in her life, had nothing to say.

“Danse, I’m so sorry-” Nora started, her voice far more nervous than it had been during her exchange with Maxson.

“Not here.” He warned, reaching forward instinctively to help her buckle herself into the seat, double checking the straps before giving Swinton the thumbs up to start the Vertibird. The propellers roared to life with a start, drowning out any opportunity for objection as the aircraft began to rise.

It was one of the longest rides of his life, the tension between the trio mounting as the minutes passed, no one so much as daring to speak, even after the sound of the propellers stabilized.

As the Prydwen came into view, he cleared his throat, meeting Nora’s wide eyes immediately when she looked up. “Once on board, I will need to speak with Lancer-Captain Kells regarding the eradication of the ghouls beneath the airport. He will need to assign a squad to the mission immediately in order to prevent any carnage there. We can speak afterwards... _privately._ I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“Okay.” Nora answered, her tone anxious as she looked toward the ground immediately.

He quickly reached out to squeeze her hand, leaning closer to observe her anxious expression. “Stop. Please don’t sit there and do that.”

“Do what?” She demanded, looking up with a start, a faint hint of defiance in her tense features.

“Worry...” Danse let out a gentle sigh, squeezing her hand once more to emphasize his words. “I know that it’s hard for you, but try not ruminate about what occurred down at the airport.”

Nora bit out a frustrated laugh, shaking her head in response. “I’m an idiot.”

“Nora-”

Swinton looked back quickly before angling the aircraft slightly to the right,“Sorry to interrupt, but from personal experience, once I even her out, you’ll have about 10 seconds until whoever’s on duty will be able to see inside the bird, so...”

Danse quickly let go of her hand, dropping his arm back to his side. “I appreciate your forethought, Lancer Swinton.”

“Ah, shut up.” The pilot grumbled in response, evening out the aircraft and guiding it toward the approaching dock, where an angry Lancer Sergeant Wilson was headed toward with a scowl.

Mere seconds after the Vertibird latched onto the dock, Wilson stomped into the aircraft, darting directly to Swinton with an angry frown. “Would you like to explain to me why the seat of my bird was covered in shaving cream and wads of toilet paper, that I sincerely hope is unused?”

“I don’t know... Were you trying to save time by skipping the bathroom in the morning?” Swinton answered as she looked up at the man with a small smirk, shrugging as she leaned back in her seat. “Sounds like it would be a _real_ bitch to clean up though, so you might want to get on it.”

“I swear to god, Swinton, you-”

Danse quickly looked over to Nora, nodding to the opening as they slipped out before they could hear the argument truly take off. Fortunately, the commotion drew a fair bit of attention and they were able to slip inside the foredeck relatively unnoticed.

He looked back to where Nora was following behind him with an amused grin. “This might come as a surprise to you, but we did something similar to Star-Paladin Mathias when I was an initiate back at the Citadel... It did not end well for us.”

Nora met his eyes, before letting out a small laugh. “I would imagine not... Back at the academy we tried to pull a prank on our drill sergeant. He caught us and ended up running drills with us for four hours, playing the same god awful dong the entire time... To this day I can’t stand to listen to it.”

“What song was it?” He asked, entertained by the idea of a young Nora being just as much of a troublemaker as she still was.

“A Wonderful Guy.” She stated sarcastically, a faint smirk pulling at her mouth as she shook her head. “Of all the things to survive. Two hundred years and I’m still haunted by that fucking song.”

“It does seem to be a cruel twist of fate.” Danse admitted, watching as Nora’s expression feel at the verbiage.

“Yeah well, story of my life.” She let out a sigh, looking down at her boot with a frown. “I should let you go find Kells, I’m going to clean up. I’ll see you in a bit?”

“One hour.” He confirmed, quickly regaining his composure as he turned to the ladder, only shooting a brief glance toward her as she headed to doorway, catching her just as she looked back at him with a warm expression. Nora immediately turned back away with a gentle laugh, disappearing down the hall leading to the bunks.

_By the Creator please don’t let anything happen to her. I won't survive._

*

Nora had been pacing a hole in the floor of Danse’s quarters for the better part of at least thirty minutes, having already showered and changed over an hour before. The longer she waited the more uncertain she became, furiously reviewing the entire conversation with Maxson a thousand times over. She knew better than to challenge him, especially in front of other soldiers, none the less.

_Stupid. You’re always so fucking stupid._

It was by chance alone that Maxson hadn’t taken her rank along with Clarke’s out on that helipad. For all she knew Maxson had ordered Danse to have her removed from duty, and it was just a matter of time until she was ‘escorted’ off of the Prydwen. Except that she was sure if that were the case, Danse would have said something and not let her wander freely around the ship.

It had been well over an hour since he’d headed down to the flight deck to find Kells and all Nora could think is that one of their many lies and secrets had somehow been found out. The sound of the door opening send jolt of panic through her, half convinced that Elder Maxson himself would march through the door and have her thrown overboard in an instant.

As soon as she saw Danse peer around the door, offering a soft smile when he spotted her pacing by the bookcase, she allowed her herself to actually take a full breath. “Jesus, Danse. It took you long enough.”

“I apologize, I got delayed with the squires longer than I anticipated.” He answered, looking up as he gently closed the door. “Are you alright?”

Nora crossed her arms, fighting a small smile at the idea of a group of excited children being enough of an unstoppable force to delay him significantly. “You were with the squires?”

“Yes... They were quite adamant that I share a story of my most recent mission with you.” Danse elaborated with a sigh, moving to lean against the workbench situated across from her and crossing his arms. “It would appear that Quinlan made the mistake of leaving your article out on his desk and one of the squires got a hold of it. They were exceptionally curious about the vault woman who had joined our ranks.”

“Oh?” She asked, raising her eyebrow in question, trying to remember what she had even said to Piper during their interview all those weeks ago. “What’d you tell them?”

“I informed them of our expedition down in the Glowing Sea. I must admit, they were particularly enthralled when I told them how you single handedly fought off a Deathclaw, all while dragging me to safety in my unconscious state.” He explained, smiling as he scanned her face, seeming to take notice of her sudden blush. “I did spare them some of more... gruesome details.”

Nora could feel her heart beating against her chest at the anecdote, both amused and touched by the thought of Danse sharing their missions with the squires like some heroic bedtime story. “I’m sure their parents will appreciate that.”

“Regardless, I do apologize for the delay. I should have been more attentive to the fact that you would be waiting... I suppose I'm not accustomed to having someone who would be so concerned with my wellbeing." He admitted, watching her with a fond smile.

“I was just worried Maxson changed his mind and was about to throw us both over board.” Nora stated dryly, running a hand over her face and moving to sit down on the corner of the bed, replaying the mortifying scene over in her head yet again. “Fuck! I’m _so_ stupid.”

Danse paused, appearing carefully consider his words for several moments before responding. “While I will admit that the exchange did not go quite as anticipated, it does seem that Elder Maxson was particularly forgiving of the indiscretion.”

“Yeah, this time...” She muttered, looking down at the hem of her tank top, tugging at a loose string intently. “I just never know when to shut the fuck up. Your _career_ is on the line. My son’s _life_ is on the line, and I can’t shut my mouth for five minutes. I... I’m such an idiot.”

“Nora, stop.” He urged, moving to stand and sit down on the bed next to her, interlocking their fingers in an instant. “Standing up for Clarke, even at a great personal risk to yourself, is nothing short of extraordinary. I... You did the compassionate thing, yes... But I also believe that you did the _right_ thing.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is half the time anymore...” Nora admitted, looking up at up him quickly, scanning his face for any indication of anger. She had expected a lecture or an argument, but she certainty hadn’t anticipated that he would agree with her thoughts on the earlier incident with Clarke.

“I... Can understand the sentiment.” He offered, rubbing his thumb tenderly along the back side of her hand as he met her gaze. “I’ve come to understand that sometimes what we’re taught... it isn’t always what’s right.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way a long ass time ago.” She answered, watching his expression intently. “Still, I’m sorry for putting you in a tough spot with Maxson.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Nora... Maxson simply advised that I ought to monitor your behavior thoroughly going forward.” Danse stated, a sly smirk breaking across his features as he brought his hand to the side of her face. “I must admit, however, he did not specify how thoroughly.”

She could feel the breath hitch in her throat, leaning forward at the contact, waiting for him to change his mind about their newfound intimacy, but he didn't. Instead, he immediately reciprocated, meeting her mouth in an instant as he began moving his lips achingly slow against hers, gently bringing his hand to the back of her head and burying his fingers in her hair.

It was like heaven and home, to feel him so readily give into what they had both been fighting for far too long.

Nora quickly pressed closer to him, deepening the kiss in a near-desperate hunger as she grasped the back of his neck. Any indication of guilt or restraint was blessedly gone as she felt him release her hand and move to place it on her waist, pulling her toward him.

She quickly move to slide into his lap, settling against him as she straddled his hips, watching for his response. At the sudden movement, Danse stilled, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes.

“Is this...okay?” She breathed, scanning his face carefully.

“Yes. This is... very okay.” He confirmed, clearing his throat as he moved his hand toward her hip before hesitating and placing it back on her waist.

“You can touch me, you know...” Nora teased, unable to fight the amused smirk at his sudden nervousness and lack of verbose language. Danse met her eyes, as if trying to ascertain the authenticity of her invitation, and she gently pressed herself against him, angling her face just inches away from his mouth. “I _want_ you to touch me, Danse.”

“Okay.” The words barely left his mouth before his lips were pressed against hers once more, his hands moving down, hesitantly exploring the curve of her hips. It was several long moments before he pulled her closer toward him, relinquishing any hint of control or shyness as she deepened the kiss. He slid a hand under the hem of her shirt, running his palm along her sides breathtakingly slow. “You feel... So soft.”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, placing a careful kiss on his lips before pulling back to meet his eyes, lazily pulling her shirt up over her head and dropping it on the floor behind them. Danse immediately brought her back into a hungry kiss, pressing his hand against the outside of her breast as he caressed it tenderly. She leaned back briefly, just long enough to whisper to him. “I want you to feel _all_ of me.”

He obliged silently, gently squeezing her breast as she moved to kiss along his jaw, running her free hand through his hair. At the sudden pressure, she arched forward, rolling her hips against his own with a gasp at the friction. As if encouraged by her response, Danse immediately began massaging her breast, confidently moving to the opposite one as he tightened his grip on her hip, pulling her forward slightly.

Nora quickly angled back, a faint smile playing at her lips as she reached behind her, watching his curious expression as she unfastened the hooks of the bra and dropped the faded white fabric to the side.

His eyes went wide at her sudden nudity, quickly palming her exposed breast as he leaned back up to meet her lips, moving his own blessedly slow against hers. The intimacy of the kiss was overwhelming, and she was shocked by the unspoken affection in the tender affection of his movements.

She cautiously reached back to the neck of his flight suit, tugging on the zipper only momentarily. “Can I...?”

“Yes.” Danse rushed, taking a long breath as she pressed against his chest, pulling the zipper down, scanning his chest through the thin white shirt as it came into view. He quickly freed his arms, allowing the top of suit to settle around his his waist and reaching up to cup the back of her neck as he leaned forward to kiss her.

Almost as if taunted by instinct or rampant desire, Nora slipped her hand under the hem of his undershirt, tracing her fingers over his chest, feeling every taunt muscle as she guided the shirt over his head and exposed his muscular chest. At the sight of his impeccable figure, her chest instantly felt tight.

_Oh of course he's fucking gorgeous... Everything about him is gorgeous._

She pressed her lips back against his, rolling her hips forward as he ran a calloused thumb over her nipple, inspiring a sudden a gasp as she gripped down on his upper arm. Beneath her she could feel Danse tense, remaining painfully still as she arched against him.

“It’s feels good.” Nora assured, gripping his wrist and carefully guiding it back over her breast. “You feel good.”

He slowly ran his thumb back over her nipple, causing a jolt of pleasure through her as she caught his lips, gently moving her hips against the friction of his own, his erection taught against the fabric of the flight suit. She could feel his palm move back down toward the dip of her waist, stopping right above the waistband of her pants and squeezing her hip, almost as if afraid he wasn't allowed to explore her figure furtute, as he moved to kiss her neck. The sensation was near-ethereal as she arched against him, gripping his bicep with as undignified gasp.

“Danse.” She breathed, angling back just long enough to meet his eyes and lean toward the bed, her grip firm on the back of his neck as she guided him over her, quickly laying back against the mattress. “I want to feel you.”

The words came out almost as a plea, but as soon as she felt his lips back against hers accompanied by the blessed sensation of him slowly unbuttoning her pants, she couldn’t find it in herself to care how desperate she sounded.

She quickly helped Danse push her pants down past her legs, kicking them aside as he firmly grabbed her hip, kissing her almost desperately as his thumb teased with the waistband of her underwear. She reached forward to pull at the bundle of fabric around his waist, pushing the flight suit down past his own hips. As if sensing her intent, Danse immediately steadied himself on his forearm, slipping the offending orange fabric away and bringing his mouth back against hers in an instant.

He moved his hand to tug at hem of her underwear once more, hesitating as soon as she lifted her hips in response, scanning her face. “Are you... quite certain?”

_More than anything in the world._

At the question she pulled him back into a kiss, moving her lips achingly slow as she reached down to slip her underwear off and over her legs, dropping it off the side of the bed. “God yes.” 

Danse cautiously reached down to gently run his fingers over her folds, parting them slowly. At her sudden gasp, she gripped her hand around his arm as she brought her lips back against his, moving eagerly as he ran his thumb over her clit, eliciting a happy moan that fell freely from her lips.

She arched forward, desperate to feel him inside her, letting out an excited gasp when her heat met the friction of his fingers, tenderly cautioning their entrance. “Yes, please. God, you feel so good, baby.”

He pressed against her heat, eliciting a sharp inhale as he pushed his fingers deeper inside her, watching her expression intently. As he slowly moved his fingers and brought his thumb back over the bud of her clit to rub it slowly, she let out a sudden moan.

"Yes, you feel so good. Just like that." She encouraged as he pressed more firmly against her clit. At the sensation, Nora let out a quiet, happy groan, bringing her hand to the side of Danse’s face to meet his eyes. “Danse... _please_. I want to feel you.”

He stilled at the request, scanning her face carefully as he returned her gaze, swallowing abruptly before answering. “I’ve never... I’m not familiar with the... practical application of such activities.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” She breathed, trying to control her ragged breathing as she considered the implication of his words. “If you don’t want to, we-”

“I want to...” He promised, letting out a brief breath before continuing. “I’m just... aware that you have had previous experiences with...” Danse quickly cleared his throat before continuing “I don’t want it to be unpleasant for you.”

Nora could feel her chest tighten at his admittance as she ran her thumb over his cheek, meeting his wide eyes with an unrestrained abundance of affection that she didn’t bother to hide. “I don’t think that’s possible, Danse.... Not if it’s you.”

“I- _Oh._ ” He breathed, pausing at her words that hung between them like irradiated fog, sounding so much more akin to a confession. She could almost feel the panic at such an intimate statement welling up in her throat only mitigated as his worried expression relaxed into a warm, faint smile and he pressed his lips back against hers, kissing her beautifully slow.

She moved her hand to the back of his head, returning the kiss and burying her fingers in his hair as she reached down to tug at the waist of his boxers, inching it lower over his hips. Sensing the movement, Danse leaned back, pulling the fabric down and over his legs, freeing his erection in an instant.

At the sight of his hardened member, Nora felt her breath hitch in her throat, followed by a swell of excitement pooling in her groin in anticipation as he brought his hand back to caress the side of her face, kissing her much more passionately than before. There was something even more arousing at his sudden burst of confidence, only emphasized as Danse gently rested on his forearm and angled himself against her, reaching down to line up his erection with her sex. As if sensing her own desire, he met her eyes quickly, seeming to search for approval.

She nodded faintly, gripping his upper arm as she felt the head of his erection press against her. “Slowly, okay?”

“Okay.” He confirmed, watching her expression as he pushed into her carefully. At the welcome pressure, she gasped, clenching around him in an instant and digging her fingers into the skin of his bicep. Danse froze, meeting her eyes quickly. “Are you-”

“I... It’s good, you’re just...” She rushed, pressing her lips briefly back against his before leaning back to elaborate, desperately trying to find any sort of coherent words to make a sentence. “You’re... _well_ endowed, and it just takes a second to adjust, okay? But it’s good.... _very_ good.”

“I see.” He offered, a soft smile teasing his lips at her explanation. At the sight of his content smile, Nora gently lifted her hips, gradually guiding him deeper as she moved against him.

The sound of his quick inhale at the motion was divine, and she immediately arched against him, taking his length in full.

The sudden sensation of wholeness was breathtaking, and she practically saw stars as she felt Danse grasped her hip, slowly pushing further into her. He buried his head in the nape of her neck as he moved, letting out a shaky breath. “God... _Nora._ ”

Of all the magnificent sounds she’d heard in her lifetime, she was certain that hearing Danse half-moan her name was one of the best she’d ever be blessed with. As he rocked into her, she pressed her thighs against his hips, wrapping her legs around him with a sudden moan. He immediately pressed his lips back against hers, kissing her almost recklessly as he began to increase his pace, moving his hand up to massage her breast.

“That’s good, baby.” Nora panted, ever aware of the mounting tension of her approaching orgasm. _God damn it, it's too soon._ “Keep going, just like that.”

Danse silently obliged, pushing into her steadily, his breath heavy against her mouth as she deepened the kiss, stifling a moan at the feel of his calloused thumb pressed against her nipple. He pulled away from her lips, moving to slowly kiss along the side of her neck.

At the feeling of his lips against her collar bone, she felt herself tense around him as her orgasm over took her, gripping the back of his arm with a gasp. “ _Danse.”_

He gently squeezed her hip, stroking his hand along the back of her thigh as he moved. As soon as he met her eyes, he quickened his pace with a soft grunt, watching her as she faintly gasped with each of thrust. The feeling was pure ecstasy, particularly given the increased sensitivity from her recent orgasm, and she couldn’t help the plethora of sounds the erupted from her lips as she felt Danse move confidently inside her.

She instantly pressed her lips back to his, lightly gripping his hair as she arched toward him, sinking herself further against him as he rocked into her, reaching to cusp her ass with a pleasant hum.

Danse slowly ran his hand through her hair, kissing her incomprehensibly deeper with each passing second. As he moved, she noticed that his thrusts were becoming erratic and his breathing was much shallower than before.

He let out a heavy breath, quickly angling his face back to meet her eyes, his face flushed. “Nora... I believe I’m-”

“I know. I want you to.” She urged, pressing herself as close to him as she could, pulling him into a hungry kiss.

At her words, Danse tensed, cupping the side of her face and pushing into her desperately, not bothering to object as he returned the kiss eagerly. Nora could feel him still as he came, letting out a few brief, panting breaths before he slowly resumed thrusting back into her, gradually decreasing his pace. When he stopped, she gently pulled back, moving to stroke the side of his face, meeting his eyes with a soft grin.

He let out a quiet breath, placing a brief kiss back to her lips before pulling out of her with a start. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the sudden emptiness, but the faint, happy smile teasing on Danse’s lips erased away everything besides the bloom of affection for him that flooded her chest like a tidal wave.

As he settled back down on his side, he reached forward, brushing her hair behind her ear and holding the side of her face. “You’re... You’re so beautiful, Nora.”

If she was prone to metaphors, she might dare say the words made her heart flutter, and she immediately scooted closer to him, curling against him with a content sigh. ”Careful, if you start saying things like that you’ll never get rid of me.”

“I suppose I will have to take great care to remind you regularly, then.” He offered, pulling closer to his chest and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Was it... adequate?”

Nora looked up, placing her hand on his chest with a warm smile. “Yes, Danse. It was amazing... _You_ are amazing.”

At the compliment, Danse went an almost alarming shade of crimson, quickly clearing his throat. “I... Thank you... I suppose I should try and clean up.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea. Do you have any towels?” She agreed, shivering slightly at the sudden lack of warmth as he moved to stand. He quickly made his way to the chest of drawers, pulling out a couple small towels and grabbing a folded pile of fabric that she couldn’t quite identify.

As he returned to the bed, he quickly handed her one of the towels, and she made short work of cleaning up as best she could, before standing to place it inside the obvious laundry bin near the door. Nora immediately settled back into the bed, watching as Danse turned toward her with a raised eyebrow, quickly looking down at her exposed figure before meeting her eyes. He moved to lay down next to her on the bed, pulling her toward him with a small smile as she adjusted herself to lay against his chest. She watched as he reached for the folded pile of fabric, unfolding what appeared to be a large blanket and placing it over them as he wrapped his his arm around her shoulder. As she looked up at him, Danse pressed a soft kiss against her lips and moved to gently caress the side of her face.

“You know for someone who claims to have limited experience with relationships, you’re pretty good at this stuff.” She teased, her heart falling as she felt him still completely against her and she noticed his surprised expression. “Shit. I didn’t mean to assume that we were... Fuck! I was just saying that-”

“It does seem to be an apt analysis, does it not?” He offered, scanning her face carefully at his answer.

“I mean... Yeah, but...” Nora let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head slightly. “Things were just really different back in my day. I didn’t want to assume that you wanted to be with me like that-”

Danse watched her, looking away briefly before turning back to her, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. “I... I want to be with you in whatever capacity you wish me to be, where ever our path may lead.”

At his reassurance she could feel her breath hitch in her throat, because there was no way that he could truly mean the level of commitment that he implied. But she couldn’t deny the tender, affectionate way in which he regarded her, seeming to see through her defenses every step of the way. _Just say it, damn it._ “I... I care for you, Danse. So much that it terrifies me... Other than Shaun, there’s no one... I just want you with me, okay? No matter what happens.”

“Okay.” He promised, pressing his forehead gently against hers with a happy smile. “Where ever we go, we go together?”

“Yeah, we’re in this together.” Nora confirmed, relaxing against him with a content sigh, nuzzling closer against his chest as she felt a sudden warmth fill her chest, followed by a pressing sense of dread at the realization that in three days or less she’d probably be vaporized by the damn Relay.

_Love is nothing but a cruel twist of fate... When things are good, you know that they don’t stay good for long._

_It’s too bad to fall in love only to have it ripped away, is it not?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate the terminology used for genitals here, might change. nothing sounded right.


	39. Jolly Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was promoted at work so when I say I *barely* got this out before midnight NY time.... Believe me.
> 
> Anyways. November is going to be No Post November where I just write an edit and disappear for a month. December will be normal.

Danse could feel Nora shift against him, letting out a quick sigh as she laid her head back on his chest. The feeling was worth more than chromium, to have her there in his arms and pressed up against him. He was still in shock that she apparently cared for him, ‘ _so much that it terrifies me_ ’, and even more so that she harbored any sort of physical attraction toward him, but he wasn’t particularly keen to object.

If he was a better man, he could have resisted crossing all of the boundaries that neither of them seemed to care about anymore, but he wasn’t, and having Nora in his lap literally begging him to take her to bed had a way of rapidly realigning his priorities. He knew that there was a very real risk of someone catching onto their dalliance, a fact which would signal the end of both of their respective careers. Hell, Swinton was already apparently abridged of their budding relationship, and the woman wasn’t exactly what one would define as subtle.

But despite his better judgment, he found that couldn’t possibly resist their newfound intimacy for anything in the world.

Almost on instinct, he reached up to brush her hair out of her face as Nora slowly opened her eyes, blinking up at him.

“Morning, handsome.” She mumbled, nuzzling closer against him as he began to gently rub her shoulder. He could feel himself blush faintly at the pet name, a fact which she seemed to notice immediately as she scanned his face with a coy smirk. “Sorry babe, but if you’re going to call me beautiful, you have to put up with all the sweet nicknames I give you. Them’s the rules.”

“Is that so?” He teased, trying to ignore the sudden nervousness in his chest as she raised her eyebrow at him.

“Yup.” She whispered, placing a quick kiss against his lips.

“I find the names... pleasant.” Danse admitted, dropping his hand to her waist and pulling her toward him, pressing his lips back against hers.

At her content hum, he cautioned his hand upward, tracing the impossibly soft skin of her side up to her breast, gently massaging it as he ran a calloused thumb over her nipple. Instantly, Nora arched toward him, letting out a small gasp that he was certain was the most beautiful sound to ever reach his ears.

By God, how did he get so lucky?

He brought his hand to her hip, slowly caressing the length of her thigh as she ran her hand through his hair, deepening the kiss. If he were religious, he’d dare say the sensation of having her give herself so happily and freely to him was heaven.

Nirvana or Zion, certainly.

It was paradise, none the less.

Danse brought his hand down to her heat, pressing gently into her, just as he had the previous night, and watched her expression instantly change to pure bliss as she felt him begin to stroke his fingers inside her.

“Oh god, yes.” she moaned, her breath warm and heavy against his lips as she firmly gripped his bicep.

At the sudden, aggressive bang against the door, they jumped back. Neither one so much as cautioning a word in the resulting silence. It was several long moments before that metallic echo resounding through the room faded out and he looked back at her, meeting her wide eyes in an instant.

As if sensing his own desire to avoid whatever responsibility was signaled by the overzealous knock at the door, Nora placed a finger to her lips and gently guided his hand back down to her sex. His fingers entered her once more, watching as she silently sunk down against him, taking his fingers down to the knuckles with a sudden, faint gasp. The fact that he could elicit such a breathy, sensual sound from her with his fingers alone send a jolt of pride through him, and he found that he was quickly becoming addicted to the every hitch of her voice.

The angry knock sounded out once more, followed by a particularly gruff voice. “Wake the fuck up. Maxson is looking for you.”

“I _hate_ him.” She suddenly bit, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s six in the morning, what the fuck does he want?”

Danse knew he should have corrected her criticism of their elder, but he couldn’t particularly find it in himself to disagree. Certainly not when she was naked and pressed up against him, asking him to touch her. With an irritated sigh, he moved to stand, noting the disappointed look on her face as he hastily pulled his jumpsuit back on.

He quickly made his way to the door, turning back just as Nora pulled the blanket over her head in a feeble attempt to conceal herself underneath. If anyone had the wherewithal to actually scan past the door, there would be no point in denying the obvious figure curled against the mattress. As soon as he opened the door, he caught sight of the familiar, miserable face opposite his.

“Star-Paladin Farris.” Danse offered plainly, trying to slow the racing pulse that was echoing in his ears at the sight of the former Outcast member. “You indicated that Elder Maxson was requesting my presence?”

“Command Center. Ten minutes.” Farris spat, immediately turning back down the hallway without another word. Danse slammed the door shut with a glare. He had never been particularly fond of the cantankerous older gentleman who seemed to lack the basic decency of _manners_ or _decorum_ _._

Nora hesitantly pulled the blanket down, meeting his eyes with a sigh. “I don’t suppose you can’t be late to whatever the hell that is.”

“I find that highly unlikely...” Danse admitted, moving to sit back on the edge of the mattress as he cupped her cheek. “I apologize for the interruption.”

She immediately relaxed against his hand, gripping his wrist and placing a quick kiss to the sensitive skin there. “As long as you promise to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.” He promised, knowing he’d do absolutely everything in his power to fulfill such a ready assurance.

“Jesus, Danse.” She breathed with a soft laugh, shaking her head as she met his eyes. “You’re pretty damn romantic, you know?”

“Are you being... Facetious?” He cautioned, scanning her face intently.

“No, actually.” Nora answered, pulling him into a quick, sweet kiss.“Not at all.”

“I...Oh. Good, that’s... good.” Danse cleared his throat and ran a brief hand over his face, frowning at the overgrowth of stubble along his jaw. It was one thing to look disheveled given the early morning hour, but the realization that he had to go speak with Maxson after committing a fairly grievous infraction the night before, all while the evidence of it clung to him like smoke was a sobering one.

“Go on.” She urged, waving him to the door with a sly smirk. “The sooner you go, the sooner you can get back.”

_This certainly is the hope..._

He hummed in agreement, reaching forward to pull her into a kiss that, if he had his way, would never have been so achingly fleeting.

Walking out of the quarters and leaving Nora alone in his room was one of the hardest thing’s he’d ever had to do, and for once he found himself growing frustrated at Maxson for his sudden unpredictability. It wasn’t like the younger man to flagrantly disregard routine or procedure, and decision to call a meeting at such an early hour inspired a cloud of foreboding to settle over his thoughts.

Fortunately, when he’d pushed open the door to the Command Center he saw that it was only Maxson waiting for him, a worn weariness creasing his young face.

“Danse. Come in, close the door.” He instructed, his usual air of authority shockingly absent as he ran a frustrated hand over his face. “I’m sure you have an abundance of questions regarding the... unconventional nature of this meeting. First off, I want to articulate that I truly appreciate how expeditiously you were able to meet on such short notice... As you recall, the East and West coast divisions of the Brotherhood are not on the best of terms... I take it you recall Knight MacNamara?”

“Affirmative sir.” He answered, his mind racing a mile a minute at the mention of their West coast brethren.

“Well as you also might recall, our West coast division very recently lost their elder... An Elder McNamara.” Maxson offered, scanning Danse’s face intently at the implication.

“Knight MacNamara... She was his... daughter?” Danse asked with a frown, his eyebrows coming together in an instant. “I did not initially make the connection due to the variation in spelling.”

The younger man let out an irritated sigh before elaborating. “Yes, it would seem she intentionally alternated the spelling of her surname as to not have her reputation associated with that of her father. That being said, even with his recent passing, it seems that word of his daughter’s own death has caused quite a stir. I’m going to need you to accompany Star-Paladin Farris and Recon Squad Delta back down to Saugus Ironworks to hold those _barbarians_ personally responsible for what happened to Knight MacNamara.”

Danse quickly composed his sudden shocked expression at the order. “I... I see. I was under the impression that my current mission was to monitor Knight Hartt’s performance-”

“I will be certain to keep a close eye on her. You have absolutely nothing to worry about...” Maxson offered, the faint twitch of his lips inspiring a sensation of discomfort as he continued. “I need you on this, Danse. You know how I feel about Farris'... previous allegiances. Should anything come to light during this mission, I need your assurance that you will report such discrepancies to me immediately. Are we clear?”

“Absolutely, sir.” The thought of being sent out on a mission without Nora, especially so close to the construction of the Relay send a jolt of dread through him, and that wasn’t even accounting for the sudden distrust he had about leaving her under Maxson’s watchful eye, but he knew better than to argue the elder’s instruction. 

“Good. You are to meet Star-Paladin Farris down at Boston Airport by no later than seven hundred hours. You’re dismissed, Paladin.” Maxson answered with a wave of his hand, turning back to scan the ruins of the city below with a frown.

Danse immediately turned to head back to his quarters, not bothering to dignify any of his passing fellow, bleary-eyed soldiers with so much as a nod as he made his way through the hallway. He pushed open the door to his quarters with a start, watching as Nora jumped, turning to smirk back at him just as she was pulling her pants over her hips.

Almost as soon as he closed the door behind him, he saw her amused smile fall from her face as she met his eyes. “Shit, what happened?”

He let out a small sigh, moving toward where she had flopped back on the edge of the mattress, yanking her tank top back over her head. “Elder Maxson has assigned me to accompany Recon Squad Delta -”

Her eyes went wide at his words, a flash of anger blooming across her face. “He reassigned you? What? Is it because of -”

“No.” He interjected, immediately grabbing her hand and interlocking their fingers. “I am only accompanying them for this mission. It has absolutely nothing to do with you or I.”

Nora let out a scoff, shaking her head as she defiantly cocked her head in his direction. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me trapped alone aboard this giant goddamn blimp... When do you get back?”

“You know as well as I do that there’s no telling how... extensive a given mission might be.” It was the harsh truth that he was trying his hardest not to think about, the unspoken realization that in that moment it could be the last time they were together. For all he knew their relationship could end just as soon as it started, as they both were assigned missions with an indisputably high likelihood of fatality.

“Jesus, Danse. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She complained, relaxing only slightly as he pulled her toward him, sliding into his lap and pressing her forehead against his.

“Elder Maxson had given me his personal assurance that he will be monitoring your progress in my absence.” He offered, the quiver of doubt in his normally composed voice the only indication of his own lack of faith in the other man’s alleged concern for her best interest.

“Because that doesn’t feel like a trap.” The words hung between them for a heavy moment, as Nora let out a long breath, slowly snaking her arms around his neck as she met his eyes

“Nora, please. I need you to be on your best behavior. It’s not secret that Maxson has his... reservations about your loyalty.” Danse pleaded, running his hand down the side of her waist, feeling every inch of her side tantalizingly slow, committing the very feel of her resting comfortably in his lap to memory.

“I hate this.” She whispered, her voice cracking as she looked away.

“I... Will admit that the situation is less than ideal.” He offered, reaching up to cup the side of her face. “I can assure you, that I will do everything in my power to make this mission as brief as possible.”

Nora nodded, letting out a bitter laugh. “The universe couldn’t have worse timing if it fucking tried.”

There weren’t any words that he could possibly find to mitigate the desolation of her claim, and Danse felt a pang of anguish fill his chest.

He quickly cleared his throat, resting his hand on her hip. “I was instructed to meet Star-Paladin Farris down at the airport.”

“How much time do we have?” She pressed, letting out a shaky breath as she placed her hand on his chest, toying with the fabric of his suit.

“Not enough...” _By God there wasn’t enough time. There would never be enough time._ “They leave at o seven hundred.”

At his words, she leaned back, moving to stand with a sad smile. “I should let you get ready then. We don’t want to be seen sneaking out of here together, after all.”

Before he could object, Nora turned to the door, hesitating briefly as she grasped the handle. For a moment before she disappeared around the corner he had thought, hell he had _hoped_ with all of his being that she would look back, shoot him one of characteristic smirks and tell him to relax, tell him that everything was going to be okay.

She didn’t.

And he suddenly felt very much, indescribably, alone.

*

The first night that Nora had spent aboard the Prydwen without out Danse was wrought with near-incessant tossing and turning, accompanied by the aching sting of emptiness. No matter how she tried to adjust or move, she couldn’t quite find the right position, her thoughts consumed by haunting images of every misfortune that could befall Recon Squad Delta. She had to overhear the nature of the mission from Martinez during dinner, and as soon as he had said the name Saugus Ironworks, she had almost been sick. The memory of Knight MacNamara still haunted her when she closed her eyes, and imaging that Danse could be injured to severely made her head feel as if it were full of smoke.

There was nothing she could even try to do to distract herself the second day, and certainly not after Proctor Ingram had thrown her off the Molecular Relay build after she’d mistakenly label several of the wires, and Cade had told her that her surly mood no longer made the clinic ‘a place of healing’.

Even Swinton claimed that she was getting worried about her, dragging her down to the lower deck to get drunk on cheap beer and wine with the newest of initiates. But even the chipper attitudes of the young recruits couldn’t cheer her up and she quickly snuck away from the group, climbing back up to sit alone in the small alcove were she had previously retreated on her initial visit.

It seemed like so long ago.

Danse had once told her how different the battlefield looked from the air, and how the very first time he’d boarded a Vertibird he had vowed to himself that he would learn to fly the aircraft, one way or another.

She’d never gotten the chance to ask if he ever did.

As she scanned the dark horizon of the city she had once called home, Nora had to admit, he had a point. While the idea of being in a glorified balloon held together by Ingram’s understanding of pre-war technology and a hint of luck still made her feel queasy, it certainly offered a change in perspective.

She took a hearty swig of the wine she had snuck away earlier from the initiates, wincing at the rancid liquid. The words ‘maladaptive coping mechanisms’ crossed her mind as she took another long drink from the bottle, recalling the concerned notes she’d swiped from her therapist before their last appointment. 

How easy it was so fall back into self-destruct misery at the first chance alone with her thoughts.

She figured she was entitled to a little self loathing, at least, after all the horrible, traumatic things she’d gone through in the past few months alone. Besides, it wouldn’t be more than another day or so, per their estimated timeline, until she would very likely be disintegrated into nothingness, and the earlier conversation with Ingram certainly didn’t do anything to assuage her doubts about the efficacy of the device.

Worst of all, was that she recognized she could very well die without so much as a goodbye to Danse. She thought about leaving a note, hell, she had damn near finished the thing until she had gotten to the bottom of the page, her hand shaking as she tried to write the words she was so desperate and terrified to say.

The sound of the door opening behind her brought her back into reality with a start, her stomach dropping as she spotted the frowning face that crossed over the threshold.

_Jesus if you or any of your buddies are real, please just let this fucker throw me overboard and lets get this over with._

“Knight Hartt.”

“Good evening, sir.” Nora stated, hoping that the alcohol wasn’t slurring her words too much. Not that she could pretend to be anything less than at the very least, decently drunk. Much less so while still gripping the offending bottle of wine in her fist.

“Well, I don’t believe that this falls within the boundaries of regulation.” Maxson offered coolly as he nodded toward the half empty, green bottle, turning to carefully scan her face. At the verbiage, she let out a bitter laugh and looked up at him with a forced smirk.

“No, I don’t imagine it does. But I needed to be somewhere...” She shrugged, picking at the faded label still miraculously stuck to glass after centuries of time and radiation. “I don’t know.”

He paused, letting out a heavy breath as he turned back to look over the Commonwealth. “You needed to be somewhere where you could breathe?”

The words were almost patient, and she could feel herself relax slightly at the rare display of humanity. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Hm. I will confess there were rumors about your sudden... change in outlook. Are you particularly troubled about your upcoming mission?” Maxson cautioned, watching her with an expression that she wad almost convinced looked like concern.

“Oh, getting ripped apart atom by atom and reassembled somewhere who-the-fuck knows where? Why would that bother me? I’ve always been particularly keen for a suicide mission.” Nora quipped flippantly, taking a long sip of the burgundy liquid. It was easier to be sarcastic, especially when dealing with something as discerning as apparent consideration from someone who she didn’t imagine capable of sincerity.

“And yet you didn’t hesitate to accept the position.” The words were a statement, tainted by the clear air of curiosity in his voice, barely masking the question that he seemed to be toying with.

“No... No I didn’t.” She confirmed, straightening the fabric of her worn, blue vault suit. It was one of the first ones she'd grabbed from Vault 114 and it felt almost like a part of her.

Maxson tilted his head slightly as he turned to look down at her, a brief hint of amusement in his expression.“Why?”

She couldn’t repress the sardonic scoff as it cross her lips before answering.“Someone has to do it. Might as well be me.” _What else do I have to live for if not to find my son? And if I can’t find Shaun inside the Institute, what’s the point in caring anymore?_

“That’s a very... noble decision to make. You’d really sacrifice yourself without a second thought to save the lives of your fellow soldiers?” He pressed, narrowing his eyes slightly as he seemed to try and see past her feigned mask of confident indifference.

“I know you don’t know me well, or at all, really. But something you should know about me is that I seem to make a habit out of doing exactly that.” There was something the felt almost ironic about the situation, as if he was half trying to see if she would renege on her acceptance of the ‘honor’.

“I see... I was also advised that Proctor Ingram removed you from working on the Relay until it’s completed.” Maxson shifted slightly at the comment, seemingly, suddenly nervous about discussing the topic.

“Yeah, I also got kicked of med-duty with Cade and filing with Quinlan. Even Swinton told me to stay the hell away from her Vertibird with my bad attitude.” Nora admitted, the latter having been the most gutting, as it left her truly on her own, without Danse’s reassuring presence to keep her grounded. “ She said I was bad luck. So, I’m drinking.”

“So you’re drinking.” He confirmed, a faint smile teasing at his lips as he met her eyes. “Would you like something stronger than whatever watered down swill the initiates undoubtedly smuggled on board?”

“Maxson are you offering to drink with me?” The idea was laughable, and she thought of how Danse would undoubtedly disapprove of her drinking with the very man who had the power to ruin bother their careers in a moment, just days after he had told her to walk on egg shells around him, lest they both go down in flames.

“It does seem to be the least I can offer, given your impending mission.” Maxson suggested, watching as she finished peeling off the remnants of the bottle's label with a sigh.

“I actually think I should go find Swinton, make sure she stays out of too much trouble and all that... But thank you. It’s kind of you to offer.” Nora answered politely, moving to stand as she barely catching herself on the railing, the alcohol seemed to reach her brain in an instant on her empty stomach.

“Another time then.” He replied, holding the door open for her to walk through.

“Yeah, maybe another time.” _I would rather get gnawed on by Mirelurks for the next two hundred years._ “Thanks for not writing me up for being out here while... _very_ intoxicated. I’m sure it’s not conduct becoming of a Brotherhood soldier.”

“Ah, yes. But you’re not just any soldier, are you?” The words sent a cool tendril of dread around her chest, the tone of Maxson’s voice almost predatory as he followed her through the door. “I think it’s fairly clear that I have... a soft spot for your lack of adherence to my rules... Even if you really _ought t_ o be disciplined for your... antics.”

She could feel the sudden heat rush to her face, mortified by the apparent implication of his words. The echoing sound of footsteps approaching on the deck drew their attention and Nora let out an immediate breath of relief when she saw Swinton and Martinez round the corner.

“My apologies, sir. Are we interrupting something?” Swinton offered, a wide, forced grin on her face as her gaze flicked almost imperceptibility back to Nora.

“Lancer Swinton, Lancer Martinez. What a unique pleasure. I was just advising Knight Hartt of the dangers of running around the ship while significantly intoxicated. Please see to it that she makes it back to her bunk relatively unscathed.” Maxson ordered, his face recomposed and stony as he brushed passed the pair of pilots who were watching him with identical shocked expressions.

As he disappeared from view, Martinez cleared his throat with a nervous chuckle. “Alright, Hartt, I guess we gotta get you back to-”

“Fuck off, Martinez.” Swinton barked, narrowing her eyes at the young man who immediately scampered away.

“You know Becks, you would have made a good Sergeant back in the day.” At the younger woman’s surprised eyebrow, she let out a quick laugh. “Given how good you are at ordering people around, that is...”

“Yeah? Well care to tell me what the hell I walked in on here?” Swinton demanded, reaching out to steady her as she swayed lazily.

Nora bit out a faint scoff, shaking her head. “Maxson asked me to drink with him. He said he had a ‘sort spot’ for me...”

Swinton’s eyes went wide, followed by a rather undignified amused giggle. “Oh shit. Oh man, that’s not funny, but it’s also _really_ fucking funny... What was he saying about _disciplining_ you?”

“I would literally rather get shot again l than think about _that_ particular topic.” Nora bit, her voice far more muddled as the last of the wine hit her bloodstream.

“Yeah? What would the good Paladin say if he heard that the Elder was apparently paying _extra_ attention to his beloved.” Swinton teased, moving to throw Nora’s arm around her shoulders and guide her through the hallway, shooting a burning glare at anyone who passed.

“You’re an asshole...” Nora slurred, shaking her head dramatically. “And I hope you get stuck with kitchen duty after the shit you pulled with Wilson.”

The younger woman carefully led them down the metal stairs leading to the pilot quarters. “Kells wouldn’t dare pull me from running ops over something as minor as a bit of shaving cream. After all, I _am_ the best.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” Nora confirmed with a pleased smile.

“C’mon drunky, let’s get you in bed before you know who wanders back around looking for you.” Swinton joked, dropping her gently to the closest bed with a small laugh.

“Mmmk.” Nora hummed as she pulled the blanket over herself, settling against the mattress.

While it wasn’t as comforting as having Danse watch her back while she slept, she found that she trusted her young friend to wake her up in an emergency, if need be. Besides, the women’s pilot quarters were practically empty given that other than Swinton, there were only two other female Lancers, both of whom worked the overnight shift.

At the very least, she felt about as safe as she possibly could without Danse pressed against her, even if the sense of security did nothing for the aching emptiness in her chest.

*

It had taken Recon Squad Delta two whole days to clear out and comb through the Saugus Ironworks building in its entirety. Danse had been plagued by worry for every second of the mission, unable to shake the terrifying sensation that the night he’d spent with Nora wrapped in his arms would be the last time he’d ever see her.

For all he knew it would be.

There was no telling when Proctor Ingram would get the Molecular Relay up and running. By the time he got back, Nora could have very well already been vaporized by the blasted device. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from turning back to any and all possible disasters that she could befall in his absence, especially given her tendency to get herself into some form trouble at nearly every turn. 

As soon as than the last Raider’s body had hit the floor, Danse ordered the remaining Knights involved on the op to fall back and head directly toward the Boston Airport, not so much as clearing the order with Star-Paladin Farris. The man had blessedly not been foolish enough to object, following the group silently as they made their way back to base.

He had just made his way toward the helipad when he heard the unmistakable, raspy voice of Lancer Martinez coming from the nearby hallway, following by a sudden laugh.

“Yeah, man. I swear I saw her sneaking out of that little alcove with Elder Maxson, lookin’ red as a tato.”

“No way. I definitely saw her hanging out around the senior officer quarters a few days ago and I thought it was weird, but I didn’t think anything more of it at the time.”

_Surely they’re not talking about-_

“Shit, no wonder she got promoted so fucking quick. You think Maxson just bent her over the railing and took her right there in front of that big ass window?”

_There’s no way in hell they’re talking about her..._

Danse could feel his blood start to boil at the crude comments being made about anyone, much less one of their sisters in steel. But as he made his way toward the hallway where the men were chatting, he couldn’t help the nervous feeling in his gut as they continued their conversation.

“I gotta say I’ve dreamed about doing that once or twice myself. Did you see her when she first got on board? Jesus H., those blue vault suits don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

Red.

That was all he could see as he heard the words. He knew better than to think that Nora would betray him like that, but to hear how their fellow soldiers were objectifying her made him feel a level of fury he did not know he could possibly feel. It burned a thousand times hotter than the rage he felt upon finding Cutler mutated by those god damn supermutants, and he had been half out of his mind then.

“Yeah, no kidding, Have you seen her lips? God I’d love to see them wrapped right around my-”

The men went deathly still as Danse turned the corner, his face undeniably twisted into a terrifying scowl as he scanned their faces.

It took every ounce of willpower he had, down to his bones to force his voice into the most even, controlled tone he could manage as he firmly addressed the two men. “Lancer Martinez.... Initiate Denison. I am certain that Elder Maxson would have you both assigned to janitorial duty, or worse, if he heard you making such distasteful comments about your sister in Steel. And let me make myself abundantly clear, Knight Hartt has done more for the Brotherhood that either of you could ever dream of by securing a way into the Institute, something we have been searching for over the past decade. She earned her rank by her sacrifice, her acumen, and resourcefulness. As I’m sure you’re aware, I personally endorsed her promotion. If you two wish to have any sort of meaningful career with the Brotherhood, I highly recommend you reevaluate the way you view your fellow soldiers, because such despicable behavior will not be tolerated. Have I made myself clear?”

The men quickly nodded, looking down at the ground in shame as Danse let out a slow breath, pointing toward Martinez. “You’re working the helipad tonight, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then get back to your damn post before I write you up for dereliction of duty.” Danse ordered, turning on his heel to march back up toward the roof of the airport, a terrified looking Martinez in tow.

At the very least, the men’s comments indicated the Nora was still on board, alive and well, at least for the time being. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest the entire ride back, his mind mulling over the concerning implication of their words. It was becoming more and more apparent with every passing day the Maxson had some deeper sort of interest in Nora and the thought of the younger man using her in such a vile way made him feel ill. The thought that she had apparently been seen leaving somewhere alone with him... it was unbearable to even think about.

Mere seconds after the aircraft had docked back aboard the Prydwen, Danse rushed out of the Vertibird, the locks still in the process of fully engaging behind him as he marched to the door leading to the foredeck without so much as a glance back at Martinez who was still an alarming shade of pale.

The echo of his racing pulse only intensified as he noticed her bunk alarmingly empty, his mind immediately going to the nagging thought that she _might_ actually be sharing someone else’s bed. It was completely antithetical to everything he knew about her, but he couldn’t help the sudden hallow feeling in his chest at the notion.

_Swinton. She doesn’t like to be exposed, she might be in the pilot’s quarters with her..._

He could hear nothing beyond the pounding in his head or the sound of his worn boots along the metal staircase as he descended toward the glistening steel door, rapping his hand against it far more intently that decency would dictate.

After several seconds that felt more like an eternity, a groggy looking Swinton swung the door open with a faint smile.

“Paladin Danse.” She greated smugly, cocking her head as she met his eyes with a laugh. “Careful there, I wouldn’t want anyone to catch you banging on the female lancer’s quarters like a horny teenager. That would start up the rumor mill.”

“Is Nor-Knight Hartt here with you?” He corrected, letting out an angry sigh at the slip from professionalism in public, even if the area was miraculously deserted.

“Hey, princess, your knight in shining Power Armor came looking for you.” Swinton shot a quick look down to the orange material of his flight suit before adding. “Well, minus the Power Armor, at least.”

Nora let out a faint grunt, pushing herself up of of the bed as she turned toward Danse, any indication of irritation at being woken up replaced with a wide smile as she met his eyes. In an instant, she moved to stand, almost toppling over as she got her bearings, barely catching herself on the side of the bed.

“Sorry, she’s still sleeping it off.” Swinton grumbled as she headed back to her bed and flopped down on the mattress with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I kept her out of trouble... Well, for the most part.”

“What-” Danse started, his question immediately interrupted as Nora flung her arms around his neck, pulling him in a tight embrace.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” She mumbled, burying her face against his chest as he slid his arms around her waist.

“I can understand the feeling... I feared that...” He quickly cleared his throat, trying to push down the sudden surge of emotion rising up like bile. “I did not know when Proctor Ingram was going to complete construction on the Relay.”

Danse let out a slow breath the felt like it was releasing every ounce of tension in his chest as she looked up at him, her eyes wide as they met his own. “God I missed you, Danse... You have no idea.”

Swinton let out an irritated grunt, moving to lean up on her arm as she glared at them from her bed. “Hey can you two idiots take your nauseatingly straight romance somewhere else where I don’t have to hear it? I’m happy for you guys and all but... blegh.”

Nora let out a soft laugh, pulling away just long enough to wink at him before placing a quick kiss on his lips, drawing an exaggerated feign-barfing sound from Swinton as she settled against the mattress once more.

“I do believe that we have overstayed out welcome in Lancer Swinton’s presence.” Danse offered with a blush, both shocked and delighted that Nora had felt comfortable enough to display such intimacy toward him in the other woman’s presence.

“Lead the way.” Nora joked, guiding him out the door with only a brief wave back toward her friend.

They carefully made their way through the ship and back to his quarters, regularly checking over their shoulders to make sure no one saw them as they wordlessly slipped inside.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he grabbed Nora’s waist, pulling her into a greedy kiss and immediately guided her back until she was pressed against the wall. The small, excited gasp that fell from her lips was like magic, and Danse quickly pressed himself closer against her, eagerly moving to kiss along the side of their neck.

“Jesus- _Danse_.” She moaned, running her fingers through the back of his hair as he reached down to grab her hip. “God, I missed you so much.”

“You did?” He whispered, moving to tug at the zipper of her suit, _Because of course she was still wearing that damn suit_ , slowly kissing along the length of her collarbone.

“So much.” She confirmed, gasping as he lifted her up and pressed himself closer against her, pushing her back against the wall far more firmly that time. At the sudden movement, she brought her legs around his waist, immediately pulling him back in for a hungry kiss before angling back with a soft sigh. “What’s gotten into you, baby?”

Danse let out a quick breath, cupping her cheek as he leaned away just enough to met her wide eyes. “It would seem that some of your fellow soldiers have... taken notice of you... I will confess it made me feel rather... uncomfortable.”

Nora watched him with an amused smile as she gently traced her thumb over his cheek. “You were _jealous_ that people were talking about me?”

“That does seem to be an accurate analysis.” He admitted with a frown before elaborating. As much as he didn’t want to even broach the topic of the distasteful things he'd overheard at the airport, much less the rampant rumors suddenly stirring among their ranks, he knew better than to keep his concern from her; the gnawing feeling of repressing the rumor for the past fifteen minutes alone was already driving him insane. “They also seemed to be under the impression that something less than professional was going on between... You and Elder Maxson.”

She barely stifled her faint laugh, before meeting his gaze, her eyes softening. “I can promise you, I’d throw myself off this stupid fucking blimp before ever entertaining anything with Maxson of all people."

"Oh?" He pressed, scanning her face intently.

Nora let out frustrated sigh before elaborating. "They... They probably just overheard that he offered to share a drink with me earlier.”

“He...” Danse let out a slow breath, the sudden sinking sensation in his stomach almost painful. “He did what?”

“Danse... He was just being... I don’t know... It was weird, and honestly? Kind of creepy... I really don’t want to talk about him... Please? You _know_ that I can’t stand that prick.” Nora wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against his. “I’m _yours_ , baby. Only yours... I belong to you alone, for as long as you’ll put up with me.”

“Promise?” He pressed, the words pouring out of him before he could stop them, and he wanted to kick himself for how needy the question sounded.

“I promise.” She confirmed, guiding his hand back up to the zipper of her suit and tugging at the pull with a smirk. As he pulled the zipper down to her hips, she allowed the vault suit to drop to her waist, exposing her naked breasts as she arched toward him, kissing him with a desperate hunger.

_By God she was the most beautiful person to ever exist..._

He could feel her tugging the back of his flight suit down and he immediately lifted her back against him, moving to place her on the desk on the opposite side of the room. The resulting moan that fell from her lips as he reached for her hips and pressed himself back against her was more potent than all the Med-X in Cade's infirmary. 

Danse moved to pull at the bundle of fabric around her hips. “Take this off.”

Nora immediately obliged, watching him with wide eyes he slowly scanned her naked body, taking note of every mark and freckle. “You know, I kind of _like_ having you boss me around, Danse.”

“No, you don’t... You seem to take personal offense at the notion of following _anyones_ orders.” He answered with a slight frown, recalling her blatant disregard for any sort of instruction.

She reached forward to pull his suit down further, raising her eyebrow as she met his eyes. “Well... I didn’t mean out in the field.”

_Oh._

“Is that so?” Danse offered as he allowed her to lift his shirt over his head.

“Well... Maybe not all the time... Sometimes I might like the idea of bossing you around.” She answered, pulling him back into a kiss and reaching toward the waistband of his boxers. “So how about you take these off?”

He silently reach for her wrist, gripping it and guiding it back to the edge of the desk. At her surprised expression, he moved to trace the outside of her sex, before slowly pushing two fingers inside of her, watching as she arched back against the motion. “I do believe that last time we were together, we were quite rudely interrupted, and I did promised to resume our activities at a later date... It would be exceptionally rude of me not to honor that, would it not?”

Her sudden gasp of breath echoed around them in the silence of his quarters as he pressed deeper into her, Nora immediately moving against his touch. And by god if the sight of seeing herself try to please herself on his fingers alone wasn’t enough to completely unravel him. He moved to massage her breast, the happy sounds of her panting only encouraging him as he stroked his fingers steadily inside her and began rubbing a gently thumb over her clitoris.

“Please, baby... Don’t tease me.” She moaned, gripping his bicep so hard he thought the indent of her fingers might leave bruises.

“What do you want me to do then?” Danse asked, watching as her breathing became erratic, the walls of her heat tensing just as he removed his hand, inspiring a frustrated breath from her.

“Danse... I want to feel you. ” She whispered, her voice almost begging as she pulled him into a tender kiss. "I... I want you to fuck me.... Please, baby?"

At her plea, he immediately pulled his boxers down, allowing his erection to break free and moving to press himself back against her, the head of member immediately pushing against her sex. Nora instantly inched herself forward, taking the tip of him with an abrupt inhale, before letting out a slow breath, the walls of her heat relaxing slightly with the pressure.

He grasped the side of her hip, meeting her eyes just as she offered him a quick nod of assent, and pushed into her firmly. The sudden warmth and tightness of her around him was cosmic, only further emphasized by how she instantly tensed, letting out a faint moan as she began eagerly moving against him, her cautious movements turning insistent with each thrust.

He tightened his grip against the curve of her hip, pushing into her steadily as he mirrored her movements, noting when she seemed to pick up the pace.

“I’m almost-” Her words were cut off by the sudden tightness of her orgasm, and Danse was certain there was no better feeling in the world of watching her meet his eyes as she rode out the waves of her pleasure with a warm, content smile.

He could feel his own orgasm mounting and knew he wouldn’t last much longer, especially not when Nora moved to tighten her legs around his hips, bringing him impossibly deeper. “I don’t think I’m... far behind.”

“Yeah?” She teased, pushing her breasts stark against his chest as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I want you to, Danse... I _like_ knowing that I’m giving you all of me... You like that too, don’t you, baby? Like knowing that I’ll _let_ you?”

“Yes.” He admitted, reaching to cup her ass as he rocked into her, his vision going white as he came, slowing his pace as he spilled every ounce of himself into her with a soft moan.

“Good.” She breathed, placing a languid, passionate his to kiss lips as he pulled out of her, missing the entrancing warmth of her immediately.

The echo of their panting resounded around the room, gradually followed by a peaceful warmth that spread through his chest as he watched her affectionate smile cross her lips, meeting his eyes.

Danse retrieved a couple small hand towels, quickly cleaning up the mess they had made on the desk, and depositing the sullied fabric in the laundry bin, before pulling Nora down to the bed. She collapsed on the mattress next to him with a giddy laugh, curling up against him.

It was several minutes until he cautioned a hand up to cup the side of her face, meeting her sudden worried eyes in an instant. As she seemed to take note of his expression, she let out a quick sigh before answering his unspoken question. “Ingram said she was almost done with the Relay... So, this could very well be the last night we have together... And... I don’t want it to be.”

He could feel his heart ache at the admittance, mirroring his own terror at losing her so soon. In such a short period of time, Nora had become his entire life, his very reason for waking up in the morning and sole motivation behind his every move. He couldn’t find the words to describe the abundance of emotion he was feeling, but god how he wish he could.

_Because she deserved to know._

“Believe me... I am more than aware of that...” He offered, forcing himself to elaborate in a hopeless attempt to put all the affection he harbored toward her into words. “The thought has been... A constant concern in my mind. I don’t want to imagine..."

“I know...” She assured, laying her head against his chest. “I never thought I could find it again... Happiness, I mean... I’m so sorry...”

“Sorry?” The words sounded empty, the idea of losing her making his entire existence feel suddenly meaningless.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into my shit. Dragged you down with me.” She let out a panicked breath before continuing. “Tomorrow I’m probably going to die, it’s just the balance of probability, there's no point in pretending... And I might never find Shaun. If he’s even alive... I don’t know.”

Danse placed a faint kiss to the top of her head, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear as he met her eyes. “I promise you, if _anything_ is to happen to you, I will find him, no matter the cost.”

"I know you will.." Nora paused, offering him a sad smile as she slowly swallowed, looking down at his chest. "...I trust you.”

“You’re going to be _fine_ , Nora.” He insisted, more to himself than to anyone else. They both knew the risks of the upcoming mission, it would be ignorant to act as if they weren’t there.

_You have to be._

“Yeah? Here’s to hoping.” She mumbled, closing her eyes as she settled against him. “I don’t... I don’t want to talk about it any more. Can we just go to sleep?”

Danse nodded, dropping his hand to her waist and letting out a slow breath. “Yes... It would be wise to get some sleep... I... I'll be here.”

The words were a promise, an implied vow that no matter what happened, no matter how long her trip to and from the Institute took, even if it took until the end of his life, he would be there, waiting for her to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fine okay I wanted a fun smutty chapter again. the bad shit will eventually happen


	40. Boogie Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barely shit this one out in time.... lol.
> 
> OOF this 'uns a dooozy

By the time morning had rolled around, Danse had been awake for several hours, his thoughts horrifyingly taunted by every possible worry about the infinite ways her upcoming mission inside the Institute could go horribly wrong.

The panicked gasp next to him drew his attention, as Nora’s face contorted into a sudden pained expression, her eyebrows drawn together in worry. He could feel how her body tensed as she began to mumble incoherently.

Immediately he reached to pull her closer, caressing her cheek as he held her and leaning slowly forward to whisper soft reassurances to her. “You’re okay, Nora... You’re on board the Prydwen, you’re safe... I’m right here... It’s just a nightmare.”

At his words, her breathing seemed to slowly even out as she relaxed against him, burying her face against his chest with an almost imperceptible sigh. As Danse scanned her face, he noticed the faint bruising under her eyes and wondered exactly _how_ poorly she had been sleeping in his absence. He knew that she struggled with frequent nightmares, which seemed to only be further exasperated by being on board the ship.

It was obvious enough that she ought to catch up on her rest, and he was determined to lay with her for as long as she needed, offering whatever sort of comfort she seemed to find in his presence. Elder Maxson himself could bang on the door to his quarters and Danse was certain that even under penalty of demotion, nothing would be able to drag him away from her when she seemed to need him so deeply.

Nora let out a soft sigh, shifting as she opened her eyes with a wince.

“Jesus, Danse, do you always sleep with the lights on?” She mumbled, her voice slurred by sleep

He couldn’t fight the sudden smirk that broke across his face at her typical, grumpy demeanor in the early hours of the morning. “No, actually. They’re on a timer, and unless adjusted manually from the light switch, they automatically come on shortly after dawn.”

“And you couldn’t turn them back off?” She demanded, closing her eyes as she pressed herself impossibly closer to him.

Danse idly thought that there was no better feeling in the world. “I could have....”

“And?” She demanded, looking up to meet his eyes with a faint glare.

“I... I did not want to get up.” He admitted, a faint smile pulling at his lips as he noticed her indignant expression. “You seemed fairly peaceful and disturbing you seemed... unnecessary.”

“Oh.” She mumbled, her expression immediately softening at his words. “...Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Everything...” Nora bit out a soft laugh as she looked away with a shrug. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“I highly doubt that. You’re nothing if not resilient.” Danse answered, knowing without a doubt that she would have found a way inside the Institute no matter what obstacles she faced.

“I-” She quickly cleared her throat, only briefly returning his gaze before looking back to the mattress. “ _Thank you_... If I don’t make it back, just know that... You made everything bearable. Hell, _better,_ even... So, thank you.”

“You’re going to come back.” He insisted, moving to cup the side of her cheek as he met her eyes, committing all the miraculous little details of their shade to memory.

_By God they’re the most beautiful eyes in the world._

“You don’t know that....” She mumbled as she reached up to grasp his wrist, leaning into the contact.

“No... I don’t.” Danse admitted, letting out a slow breath as he tried to compose his thoughts. “I can’t say with any certainty that the Molecular Relay will be successful. There is a very real probability that things will... not go as anticipated. But... I _believe_ that you will come back.”

_I have to believe that..._

Nora shook her head, burying her face against his chest. “I’m _scared_... More so than I’ve ever been.”

_So am I._

“You’re allowed to be.” He promised as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair. She hummed contently at the movement, a faint, peaceful smile pulling at her lips.

At the sound of a gentle knock on the door, she let out an irritated groan. “I swear to fucking god, I’m getting sick of people knocking on your door.”

“I assure you, this is an unprecedented influx of popularity.” Danse offered the briefest of smiles before standing, quickly pulling a pair of pants and a tank top on as he made his way to the door.

It shouldn’t have surprised him to see Swinton’s smug grin on the other side of the door, but it was still unnerving that the woman was privy to the fact that Nora was in his quarters.

“Paladin Danse. We gotta stop meeting like this.” The young pilot teased, peeking around his shoulder to shoot Nora a quick glance.

“I assure you, these meetings are strictly your doing.” He grumbled, immediately moving to block her view.

“And here I thought we were _friends_ , Paladin.” Swinton answered with a a laugh, shaking her head. “I just came to tell you two lovebirds that Ingram is apparently looking for her newest guinea pig. Something about mission parameters. I don’t know, I stopped listening once I heard ‘Knight Hartt’, so uh, have fun dealing with that.”

At the mention of Proctor Ingram, Danse felt his stomach drop, suddenly nauseous at the realization that the metaphorical moment of truth was upon them. It was all wrong, all happening too soon. Hell, he thought, it was downright cruel that fate would taunt him with such unrivaled happiness only to tear it away just as quick.

He looked up just as he felt Nora place a hand on his arm, nodding toward Swinton somberly. “Thank you, Becks... I’ll be out in a minute, okay?”

Swinton raised an eyebrow, scanning where her hand was clutching the blanket that she had wrapped tightly around her. “I’d say drop the sheet, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend here would-”

Danse quickly closed the door with a groan, the pilot’s sudden, amused laugh echoing against the metal surface as he closed his eyes, making extra sure to engage the lock before turning back to look at Nora.

Just as he was about to explain, she let go of the sheet, wrapping her arms around his neck in a flash as she pressed her lips against his, kissing him passionately slow before pulling away with a sad smile. “One last kiss? I think it’s a good one...”

“Don’t... Don’t say that.” He bit out, placing his forehead against hers with a sigh. “One of many.”

“Who knew you were an optimist.” She replied, her voice cracking as she closed her eyes.

Her shaky breath echoed against his rib-cage, shooting spasms of agony through his chest. “I’m not. I just believe... The universe would not have brought you this far to just... abandon you.”

Nora let out an achingly empty laugh as she pulled away. “I hope you’re right... I should get going, my dear.”

“No.” Danse blurted, instinctively bringing her back against him with a sigh. “I’m not... I’m not ready.”

“We’ll never be ready, baby. That’s just the rub of it...” She offered as she let him slowly trace his hands down her side, feeling every inch as he committed each sensation to memory. “I... I wish I didn’t have to go -”

“Tell Maxson you’ve had a change of heart-” He begged as he caressed her hips, angling himself against her to bring her as close as possible, desperate to prolong the inevitable.

“ _Danse_.” She interrupted, resting her head against his neck with a slow breath. “You know I have to do this... Don’t ask me to... Please, don’t ask me to change my mind, because I _will..._ I would... For you... And I would hate myself for it...”

“I... I won’t.” He forced, the words betraying his sudden lack of confidence as he gently pressed his lips back against hers. “I won’t ask you to be anything other than exactly how you are.”

Nora let out a pained sigh, her eyes suddenly wet with tears as she looked toward the floor with a start. “If I don’t go now, I’ll never leave... I’m sorry that I’m so fucking selfish.”

“You’re _human_.” Danse insisted, watching hopelessly as she pulled her suit back over her exposed body, and turned toward him with a forced smile.

“I... Thank you.” She whispered, reaching for the door handle.

It was agonizingly painful, to let her go, to let her march toward what was more than likely her undeniable demise, but he knew better than to stop her. Of all the words that were racing around his mind, he realized that sharing any of them with her would only traumatize her further, they would just serve to upset, instead of sooth her. Danse knew that he had to keep the sudden influx of emotion to himself, if only for Nora’s sake.

He watched as she opened the door and disappeared around the doorway, immediately missing her radiant smile. It wasn’t fair. _It wasn’t right...._

He wanted nothing more than to pull her back inside, but his heart knew better than to try and stop her.

It was futile, and he felt more alone than he’d ever felt in his life.

*

Nora could feel the lump forming in her throat as she closed the door behind her, her eyes embarrassingly damp as she made her way through the hallway. At the sight of Swinton waiting for her around the corner, she let out a shaky breath. It was foolish to get so upset over the inevitable, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go very, very wrong with the mission.

“Hey- Shit... Nora, take a breath.” Swinton ordered, moving to grasp her elbow and pull her to the side. “Listen... I don’t do the whole supportive friend thing but... Don’t let them see you cry.”

Nora let out a faint laugh, meeting her eyes with a sigh. “I don’t know, Becks, that was pretty supportive for you.”

“Shut up.” The younger woman grumbled, shooting her a quick glare before pulling her into an awkward embrace. “If you tell anyone I hugged you, I’ll deny it.”

“You and me both, kid... Try not to get in too much trouble while I’m gone.” Nora offered, knowing such a recommendation was pointless.

Swinton pulled away, dropping her arms to her side with a sad smirk. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Where indeed.” She conceded, hesitating only briefly before looking back at her friend. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, why the fuck not.” Swinton agreed with a slight shrug.

“Why do you stay?” Nora pressed, scanning her face as it broke into a brief smile.

“Its the flying... Being in the air above everything, looking down over the Commonwealth...” Swinton let out a content sigh as she met her eyes, a small smirk still teasing her lips. “There’s nothing like it.”

“Yeah? I get it, actually... Do you think I have time to get changed?” Nora asked, looking to the clock on the wall with a frown. “I’m not exactly what you’d call presentable.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, probably not. Ingram said they would be waiting for you down at the airport and that, I quote, ‘If Hartt doesn’t get her ass down there before 8, we’re sending someone else in.” The other woman explained, nodding toward the exit of the foredeck. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”

Nora paused, shooting a quick look back down the hallway with a frown. “Yeah... Let’s head out.”

“He’ll be fine, Nora. The younger woman insisted, shoving open the door and holding it open for her as she stepped through.

“Will he?”

“I-” Swinton stopped, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No. If something happens to you, it will destroy him. I’ve never seen that man so much as have a hair out of place, but he was willing to flat out lie to Maxson for you... So you better come back, because he’s the only brass around here who doesn’t make me want to crash my Vertibird into the Atlantic, and I’m not losing you both.”

It was as if Nora could feel her very existence being torn right down the middle, her time before the bombs pulling at the life she had made for herself in the wasteland, ripping at her insides as she followed her friend into the Vertibird, her eyes distance and lost as she stared outside the side of the aircraft. While there was not a doubt in her mind that she would do almost whatever it took to find Shaun, she couldn’t deny that she was conflicted.

She had meant what she told Danse, that if he had truly asked her to stay, to request that someone else go into the Institute in her place, she would have. Not that he would ever have truly put her in that position, but the realization that she would turn her back on her son for the man she... _What? Loved? Undoubtedly..._

But God it felt deeper than that... _What’s deeper than love?_

Nora let out a nervous breath as the Vertibird approached the airport, relieved that Swinton had seemingly sensed her need for reflective introspection and had stayed silent during the blessedly uneventful ride. It hurt too much to ruminate on the matter further, and she was almost happy to see Maxson’s scowling face from where he stood at the edge of the helipad.

The whir of the propellers as they descended were just loud enough to drown out her racing thoughts, and she thanked whatever forces in the universe were looking down on her that day, begging them to carry her just a bit further.

Swinton bit out a bitter laugh as she docked, shooting her a sudden, impossibly vulnerable expression. “You’re the only asshole on this ship I can stand, you know.”

“I‘ll miss you too, Becks.” Nora answered, noting the sad twitch of her friends lips at the comment.

The buckles of her harness felt like they were undone by someone else’s hands as she pushed herself to stand, offering the Swinton the briefest of nods before she darted out of the Vertibird and straight toward Maxson. At her approach he looked up with a tense, forced smile.

“Knight Hartt... I appreciate how expeditious your arrival was this morning. Proctor Ingram has just completed the final tests on the Molecular Relay and deemed them successful enough for human experimentation.” It was almost impossible to repress the angry laugh that was inching up her through at the terminology, and Nora had to quickly look to the ground to keep from glaring at the man, relieved that any expectation to dignify him was a response disappeared as he continued. “I will be frank, when we throw that switch, we don't know exactly what's going to happen. God willing, you'll end up inside the Institute and the mission can continue.”

“Unless I end up a bundle of disjointed atoms becoming one with the walls of some random cave, right?” She smarted, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone as she watched Maxson cock his head in her direction.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” He answered sarcastically, watching her as she eyed the device. In all honesty, it looked like a mess of wires and metal that more closely resembled her middle school science fair product than a reliable piece of technology constructed by an esteemed mechanic. “Now, I want you listen very carefully. Once you've entered the Institute, we fully expect that we will lose all contact with you, so it's imperative you remember everything I'm about to tell you.” _It’s not even 8’oclock in the morning, so good luck with that..._ “Almost a decade ago, long before I became Elder, the Brotherhood began recruiting civilian scientists from the Capital Wasteland to assist with various projects. During this process, we were able obtain the services of Doctor Madison Li, a noted mind in the field of nuclear engineering. She was critical in completing Project Purity back in the Capitol.”

At the mention of the Brotherhood’s previous pet project, Nora felt her stomach dropped to the floor, remembering Mac’s words all those weeks ago.

_‘Hell, they’re more than happy to sacrifice humans working with them too.’_

She recognized she had blindly waltzed right in to the very scheme the young mercenary had warned her about. The realization was a sobering one, but not one that she could even try and change, certainly not when her son’s life was on the line.

“I'm surprised that the you let her go.” She bit, her tone cool as she met Maxson’s eyes with a start.

“Had I been in command, I can guarantee that I wouldn't have allowed it to happen. She was a valuable asset to our organization.” He pressed, letting out an irritated sigh as he he continued. “Your mission is simple. Once you're inside the Institute, we want you to track down Doctor Li's whereabouts.”

“Find a scientist in a building fell of nerds, got it.” The sarcastic words slipped past her lips before she filter them, but given the young man’s amused smile, she figured that she wouldn’t be held accountable for such a significant lapse in judgment. 

_I'm as good as dead anyways._

“If you find out that she's still alive, make contact with her and convince her to return to the Brotherhood of Steel. There's a special project we're working on, and it needs her attention. If she refuses, you are _not_ to press the issue.” Maxson warned, his face settling back into it’s usual stoic visage. “I will also need you to take this holotape and download as much information as you can from any terminals you may find. The collection of intel will be crucial to defeating that blight on the Commonwealth.”

“I’m sure I can figure something out. Assuming I make it that far, it is...” Nora countered as she took the holotape, turning to eye the Relay with a frown.

“Listen to me, Knight. I'm well aware that you're risking your life going into the Institute blind. Just keep your mind on the mission, and don't let anything they say sway you from your duty.” He huffed out a frustrated breath of air, pinching the bridge of his nose before he continued. “I am abridged of the fact that the Institute may have your son... I hope you acknowledge that there is a very real probability that they will leverage your child as a test of your loyalty to the Brotherhood.”

“I promise you that there’s nothing they can say or do to ever make me sympathetic to their cause.” The carefully constructed deceit slipped out seamlessly, and she hoped that the words offered the implication Maxson was looking for, without outright needing to lie.

Before her could answer, the return of the Vertibird drew his attention. “What the hell is going on here? I told the Lancers that the airport was strictly off limits during this time-”

“I asked them to be here.” Nora rushed to cover for the new arrivals, relief filling her chest as she saw Danse and Swinton seated in the aircraft. Clearing her throat, she turned to Maxson with a forced smile. “I’m sorry, I should have checked, I just... I wanted a couple friendly faces before I left. Is that okay?”

“I... I suppose given all that you are sacrificing, I can allow it.” Maxson relented, shooting Ingram a quick nod as she punched numbers into the terminal, the device roaring to life with a zing of electricity. “It should be only a few minutes until the Molecular Relay is live, you can take that time to say goodbye to your friends.”

_Time to say goodbye._

She let out a quick, angry scoff at the words that were painfully accurate. It was an astute analysis of what was happening, even if she didn’t want to admit it. But she was filled with hope upon seeing Danse and Swinton approach, their worried expressions undeniably mirroring her own.

“You guys came to see me off?” Nora joked, the dark humor far more welcoming than the ache of another heart to heart in the light of day.

“We weren’t going to let you slip away that easy, my dear.” Swinton answered, blessedly mimicking her flippancy.

Danse frowned at the exchange, meeting her eyes. The heavy moment that passed between them was a new form of torture, and before she could think better of it, Nora pulled him into a quick hug.

“I’m going to be fine, right?” She whispered, her heart pounding against her chest as he pulled her closer against his chest.

“You’re going to be fine.” He reassured with a low sigh, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “The Institute doesn’t stand a chance against the likes of you... You’re going to find Shaun, Nora. You’re unstoppable.”

“Thank you, Danse...” _I love you, damn it._ Nora leaned back, dropping her arms to her side with a nod. From the corner of her eye she saw Maxson watching them through narrowed eyes, and she quickly turned to Swinton. “Get over here.”

The younger woman rolled her eyes but complied, wrapping her arms around her immediately, before leaning forward to whisper to her. “I see what you’re doing, but I don’t think it’ll convince the boss man.”

“I’m going to miss your biting sarcasm, Becks...” She retorted, pulling away to meet her friends eyes before lowering her voice. “If I don’t make in back in a couple weeks... There’s a note in my footlocker... Can you give it to him?”

Swinton let out a careful breath, composing herself from the flash of sadness that broke across her face before nodding. “Yeah. I won’t even read it before I do, just for you.”

The laugh the escaped Nora’s throat offered the briefest of releases as she turned back to Maxson with a tense smile. “I’d offer to give you and the good Proctor a hug as well, but I’m pretty sure that would end poorly for everyone involved... Call it my old world manners to offer, though.”

“It is certainly... unconventional.” Maxson answered, his eyes flashing back toward where Swinton and Danse were standing. “Let’s agree to refrain from such contact in the presence of your fellow soldiers in the future.”

_If there even is a future._

“Noted, sir. My apologies.” Nora agreed as she stepped closer to the Relay, her heart suddenly beating against her chest as she scanned the device. If she made it through the device as anything other than pink mist, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

Proctor Ingram looked up from the terminal with a somber nod. “Go ahead and step on that platform whenever you’re ready, kid.... And Nora?”

“Yeah, Kat?” She answered, her voice feeling suddenly foreign.

“I’ll miss you, but you better bring your ass back here as soon as you can. I’ll even get another set of armor for you to destroy.” Ingram offered with a smirk, pointing back to the device. “It’ll work.”

“I believe you.” Nora lied, climbing onto the platform of the Relay, her heart immediately moving into her throat as she felt the buzz of electricity between the pillars. She turned to meet Danse’s wide, panicked eyes with a sad smile just as the device roared to life.

Instantaneously, it felt like she was being burned alive from the inside out, her vision completely filled with the bluest, brightest light she had ever seen. The abrupt agony of being ripped apart almost made her faint, the sound of her pained gasp drowned out by the angry whir of the Relay as the shadows of the airport faded from her line of sight, the world going suddenly black.

*

Danse was an exceptionally, annoyingly, literate individual. He knew that he had a tendency to over explain just about anything and harbored a proclivity for using antiquated or inappropriately advanced terminology for otherwise rudimentary conversation.

He knew that. 

But there was nothing he could even attempt to say as a means of articulating the absolute desolate hopelessness that overwhelmed him as he watched Nora climb onto the platform of the Molecular Relay.

Almost as soon as the device roared to life, she had been surrounded by a brief, flash of electricity, her face illuminated by the blue light as it contorted in pain. In a matter of nanoseconds, she disappeared, the Relay letting out a sudden, metallic grinding sound as it shorted out. Danse watched in horror the wires came loose and began to smoke, the place where Nora had been standing moments before terrifyingly empty.

Out of all the words and feelings he had ever learned over the course of his years studying the Brotherhood’s archives, there was absolutely nothing that could have adequately described the sensation that filled his chest the moment that he was near-certain that the woman that he loved disintegrated before his very eyes.

_Damn it why didn’t I tell her that before she left, Maxson be damned?_

He should have kissed her right there on the roof of the airport, told her that she was going to be okay, because _he loved her_ , and there was nothing that could stop him from going in her place.

_Why didn’t you insist to take her place? You should have... You indirectly got her killed..._

The silence that settled around the small group was oppressive, almost suffocating as Ingram nervously looked between the members of the small group. Even Maxson looked uncharacteristically vulnerable in the resulting minutes as they stared desperately at the Relay.

Swinton was the first to speak, clearing her throat as she looked to Maxson with a barely concealed glare. “Well, Elder, I’m going to need to take the day off... For drinking.” At the man’s silence, she continued. “I just watched one of the _only_ friends I have disappear into dust, so... I need to drink.”

“I believe that all present for this... display, are authorized to take a day.” Maxson agreed, looking back to Danse who still stood frozen, his eyes glued to the platform. “It is clear that Knight Hartt’s presence had an impact on you both, feel free to take whatever time you need.”

The sound of Ingram aggressively typing on the terminal’s keyboard drew their attention. “Oh for fuck’s sake - we lost it all, damn it!”

“Proctor Ingram, please elaborate -” Maxson demanded as he rushed to her side, scanning the screen with a frown.

“When we flipped the switch, the Molecular Relay shorted out, and it looks like it took the entire control panel with it... The holotape with the device’s specifications was completely wiped out.” Ingram explained, shooting him an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t anticipate this happening.”

Maxson let out an irritated sigh at the information. “What does this mean for the success of the device?”

_What does this mean for Nora?_

Danse looked up toward them with a start, processing the revelations as quickly as he could, trying to sort out the muddled thoughts racing around his mind.

Ingram looked toward the device in shock, shaking her head as she answered. “I-I have no idea.”

The pressure of a hand tugging at the crook of his elbow brought Danse back to reality and he immediately met Swinton’s eyes as she nodded toward the Vertibird. “Come on. Let’s go, big guy. We’re drinking.”

“I highly doubt that is the most productive use of -” He started to object, not wanting to leave the helipad in case Nora returned. _If she ever returned._

“Danse... Trust me, you need to drink.” Swinton insisted, half dragging him to the aircraft.

Danse hesitated only briefly, shooting a quick look back to where Maxson was watching the terminal with a frown. “Alright.”

It was easier to agree, as he didn’t particularly want to have a heart to heart with the woman about how absolutely scared shitless he was in front of Maxson. He quickly buckled himself into the Vertibird, closing his eyes as the engine roared to life. Other than the times he had ridden with Nora, he always watched the retreating figures of the horizon as they rose into the sky. But he couldn’t bring himself to stare anywhere but the worn strap of the harness as the silently made their way back to the Prydwen. Swinton docked with ease, shooting him a sympathetic look as she stood from her seat.

“Paladin, you can _not_ break down right now.” She warned in a hushed whisper, looking back to where Kells was approaching with a scowl. “Not in front of them, alright? Up and at ‘em.”

Danse let out a short breath before nodding and following her across the metal deck, trying to compose his face as best he could, considering the circumstances.

Kells was on them as soon as their feet hit the deck, anger rolling off of him in waves as he turned toward the younger pilot. “Lancer Swinton, am I to understand you defied a direct order to steer clear of the airport during the course of Knight Hartt’s mission -”

“I ordered her to.” Danse interjected quickly, meeting the older man’s eyes with a frown. The answer apparently was so far out of left field to render Kells speechless, as he just stared up at him shock. “My apologies, Lancer Captain Kells... I’ll make certain that it won’t happen again.”

“You ordered... _What_?” Kells demanded, shooting a sudden glare back toward Swinton who just shrugged and nodded to the door of the foredeck. “ _You_ ordered Lancer Swinton to defy Elder -”

“Again, Lancer Captain Kells, I apologize for any confusion.” Danse interject, nodding politely as he turned, following Swinton through the door without another word.

He found the other man grating on the best of days, and unbearable on the worst of them. The thought of standing there and entertaining any further conversation with Kells made Danse want to push them both off the Prydwen just to put them out of their misery. Swinton raised her eyebrow at him, pointing toward the Power Armor Bay and moving to the nearby storage room.

She immediately retrieved a small key ring, unlocking the door and holding it open for him to walk through.

“I’m fairly certain that you should not have access to this area...” He started, looking around the room, his eyebrows drawn together in stern disapproval.

“Ah, shut up.” Swinton answered with a sigh, reaching into on of the crates to retrieve a brown bottle and two mugs before settling to the floor. “Either sit the fuck down and feel your feelings or get out.”

Danse silently obliged, taking the mug she offered him without another word. They sat in silence for several minutes, drinking and refilling the cups with the acerbic vodka that he was half sure could double as paint thinner in a pinch.

“Thanks for covering for me with Kells.” Swinton finally stated as she moved to refill the mug for a third time, caressing the cup almost tenderly as she stared down at the floor.

“Thank you for getting me down to the airport, even at the risk of significant discipline for doing so.” He answered as he closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall with a frown.

“I’m sorry about Nora.” She grumbled, glaring at the floor intently with a scoff.

Danse turned his head to meet her eyes with a nod. “Me too.”

“She’s pretty fucking stubborn, if anyone can survive that-” The attempt was polite and pitying in a way that only eviscerated him further, because it sounded exclusively like forced optimism in the face of hopelessness.

Which was exactly how it felt to pretend that Nora was anything other than probably dead.

“Please... I would appreciate the opportunity to not discuss the matter of what happened down at the airport.” He answered, letting out a slow breath as he tried not to think about how terrified and pained she had looked for the brief moments before she disappeared.

Swinton was silent for several long moments as she watched him. “She loves you, you know. It’s pretty fucking obvious, at least to anyone who’s paying attention. She’ll come back.”

“You don’t have to pretend for my benefit.” Danse bit out, his anger seeping through his words much stronger than he intended.

At the bitterness in his tone, Swinton instantly looked to the ground with a shrug. “I-I’m not... Call it selfish hope. If she’s gone... Fuck, I don’t know.”

He looked over to her, watching her nervous movements as she traced the outside of the mug, feeling suddenly guilty for his harshness toward her when she was just trying to help. To be frank, being helpful wasn’t something the young woman was particularly known for, and he figured she was also probably considerably upset over the events of the morning. “I appreciate the sentiment, Lancer Swinton... Thank you.”

“So... Are you good to sit here in silence and drink for the rest of the day with me?” She offered, pulling another bottle from behind a couple crates of ammo on the shelf.

“Yes... I’d appreciate it if we could do precisely that.” Danse agreed, taking the almost empty vodka bottle with a brief nod.

*

Nora could feel the brightness before she could open her eyes, the buzz of halogen lighting echoing in her eyes, warming the very air as she slowly began coming to. Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, as if she had been singed with a thousand fusion core all at once. The burn of the fusion cell she had taken to the shoulder was like a pin prick in comparison.

She could feel the hard, ceramic tile pressing into her side as she struggled to force her eyes open, listening intently for the sounds of anything other than the crackle of the industrial lighting or the echo of her pulse beating in her ears. The weight of the pistols strapped into her holsters was pushing into the flesh of her legs, feeling infinitely heavier than they had ever before.

The first thing she noticed when she blinked the room into view was how starkly different it was to the crumbling ruins of the Boston Airport. Everything was shining and pristine, even if the room she had teleported into seemed rather abandoned. Nora didn’t think that she would ever see anything so immaculately clean again in her life and thought faintly of poor Codsworth trying his best to attain that level of nearly intimidating cleanliness. At the very least, she was relieved that she was both alive and that there didn’t appear to be anyone waving a gun in her face, not yet, that was.

She pushed herself up, wincing as she could feel a heavy exhaustion sweep through her, pulling on her muscles as she rose to a wobbly stand.

“Good morning.” A voice offered, seeming to come from every direction as it echoed in the empty room. “Welcome to the Institute. I’m sure you have a great many questions, all of which I will be happy to answer in due time. I am only going to request that you leave your weapons in this room before proceeding to the elevator.”

There was something achingly familiar about the voice that sent a sudden surge of panic through her chest, but she couldn’t quite place the familiarity off hand. Certainly not in her disoriented state, at least.

“Who the fuck are you?” She bit, glaring at the elevator he indicated in the corner. “Just leave my weapons here for you to shoot me in the back with? Fat chance, dickwad.”

“I assure you, no harm will come to you inside these walls, though I can understand your skepticism. If you refuse to turn of your weapons, I am at least asking that you leave them holstered for the duration of your visit with us. Is that... amicable to you?” He suggested, a faint tone of amusement in his voice that only confused her further.

“Fine. But let me promise you, I’m a quick draw and a better shot than any of the assholes you got working here.” Nora warned, glad that she at the very least might have some more extensive combat experience than whatever sort of scientists they had running around.

“You've come quite far to reach us, and your dedication to your goal is nothing short of extraordinary.”

There was nothing more Nora hated than having the underhand, and the fact that she had apparently been being watched only infuriated her further. “Since you apparently know who I am, why don’t you tell me who the hell I’m talking to and what you want with me, given that I’m still vertical and breathing, that is.”

“All I want is for us to have a conversation, but that can wait. You are here for a specific, very personal reason...” The voice hesitated briefly, a slight nervousness in his tone as he continued. “You are here for your son.”

It felt like the rug had been pulled out from beneath her at the mention of Shaun, a line of angry, terrified tears welling up in her eyes as she glared toward the elevator, stomping over immediately. “Take me to my son, and _maybe_ I won’t burn this place to the fucking ground.”

“Absolutely...Please appreciate the level of trust I’m placing in you by not confiscating your weapons. Go ahead and step into the lift, I’ll meet you on the top floor... Your son will be waiting.” He agreed, the glass cylinder opened with a soft beeping as she stopped in front of it.

Nora let out a shaky breath at the thought of being reunited with her beautiful baby boy, as she stepped into the elevator, the panel immediately lighting up as it started upward. Even if Shaun was ten, she had actually found him.

She was going to bring him home, where Danse would be waiting for her. They had never talked about what would happen when she found Shaun, but she was certain that Danse would get along swimmingly with him, given how good he seemed to be with the squires on board.

For once in her life, things were finally going right, and the sudden warmth the filled her chest was intoxicating.

The metallic ding of the bell over head inspired a wave of happy excitement, the doors barely opening before she rushed through, half running through the narrow hallway as she turned the corner, into another room with a small bedroom behind a set of glass doors.

“Shaun?” She asked, not bothering to hide the desperate panic in her voice as she moved to the window. Her heart almost stopped when she saw him, a spiting image of the child she had seen in Kellogg’s memories, reading a comic book intently as where he sat on the bed. _Of course he likes those damn things, he is Nate’s son, after all, down to those soft, kind eyes and easy smile. “_ Sweetie, can you hear me? I’m your mom-

At her words, Shaun looked up, his eyes going wide in panic. “Who... Who are you?”

Nora had already anticipated that he wouldn’t know who she was, but to see him look at her as if she were a stranger almost killed her. She quickly cleared her throat, trying to push down the lump that had taken residence there as she attempted to explain. “I know it sounds crazy, Shaun, but I’m your mom. Can you open the door for mommy? I’m hear to take you home-”

“Father? Father! Help me, this lady said that she's trying to take me!” Shaun cried, moving to grab a vase and clutching it against his chest as he watched her in fear.

“No, Shaun, you’re okay, we’re going to go _home_.” She pleaded, pressing her hand against the glass as she fell to her knees, not even registering the sound of the door behind her as it open, nor the sound of footsteps behind her.

“Shaun...” The voice behind her started, and she only vaguely recognized it as the same one from earlier. “S9-23 Recall Code Cirrus.”

In a matter of seconds, Nora watched as Shaun froze as still as a statue, his gaze suddenly dropping to the floor, his once warm eyes distant and vacant. She immediately began banging on the glass, letting out a wail as she tried desperately to get him to wake back up and look at her. There weren’t any words she could try to form as the sobs overtook her, any resemblance of conversation gone as she gasped desperately for air.

The events of the previous moments were slowly coming together as she pushed herself up, spinning to face the man behind her, her eyes instantly going wide as she saw precisely who was looking back at her. If her stomach could have dropped any further at the familiar face, it would have, and she immediately took a step back from him.

“Nate?” The name slipped passed her lips on instinct, her voice wavering in fear as he let out a sad sigh.

_What the fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to end at 43 Chapters and it so will not


	41. Nuku Nuku Nurmilintu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nuku, nuku nurmilintu,  
> Väsy, väsy, västäräkki.  
> Nuku nurmelle hyvälle,  
> Vaivu maalle valkialle.
> 
> Lintu tuopi liinahapaijan,  
> Haapana hyvän hamehen.  
> Kaskeloinen korvatyynyn,  
> Pääskynen peäalusen.
> 
> Nuku, nuku nurmilintu,  
> Väsy, väsy, västäräkki.  
> Nuku nurmelle hyvälle,  
> Vaivu maalle valkialle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNDER THE WIRE, 40 MINUTES TO SPARE
> 
> RED IS KILLING IT.
> 
> Will proof read ... eventually
> 
> This is a rough rough copy, but I pushed it out in lieu of some garbage poem to fulfill the October quota just for yall.

It was uncanny, how similar the man standing in front of her looked to Nate. Sure, he was at least thirty years older than Nate had been, but he was nothing if not the spitting image of her husband, only with the benefit of aging. He had the same exact warm eyes, down to the markings in the irises, and his lips were identical, turning up slightly as he watched her intently. Nora couldn’t even hear anything he was saying, so focused on scanning his face to find something, anything different.

As soon as she realized that the man across from her didn’t have Nate’s small, silvery scar over his lip, but instead the a faint pattern of freckles as her own mirroring the placement of her own, just like her mother and siblings had, she felt ill.

“It's really you... After all this time...” Nora breathed, her voice cracking as the realization of the circumstances finally dawned on her. The shape of his jaw, covering by the graying beard, the bridge of the nose just slightly thinner than Nate’s had been, and the damn pattern of freckles that had stalked her family for generations. “You’re- You’re ...”

_Shaun._

The name of wouldn’t pass her lips. It was cruel and unfair. There was no way the old man standing in front of her was her son. Hell, he looked twice her age, it was down right impossible. She forced herself to look back at the child synth standing motionless in the glass bedroom, as still as a statue, yet another unnerving representation of Nate.

“Yes, it's me, Shaun...I'm your son.” He answered, meeting her eyes as she looked back toward him with a start. “It's good to finally meet you, after all this time.”

Nora reached forward on instinct, moving to touch his face before deciding against it, taking her hand back with a slow breath. Time felt like it was moving both too fast and impossibly slow, as if she was watching everything through someone else’s eyes.

“I don’t understand...” She whispered, the words directed at no one in particular.

Shaun offered a sad smile before answering, scanning her face as he spoke. “In the Vault, you had no concept of the passage of time. You were released from your pod, and went searching for the son you'd lost. But then you learned that your son was no longer an infant, but a 10 year old boy. I'm sorry, for it was not ten, but sixty years that had passed.”

Nora bit out an angry, half-hysterical laugh at the answer. It was so beyond ridiculous that it was almost funny. Given everything she had to do to even get into the infamous Institute, the Boogie Man of the Commonwealth, she had found her son after all, only it was six decades too late.

“This is a sick fucking joke.” She gasped, her chest feeling suddenly, impossibly tight as she looked back at the child behind her.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. I’m your son, and I’m here. I was raised by the Institute, and now I’m it’s leader.” Shaun answered carefully, keeping his gaze looked with her own, as if half expecting her to lose her mind on him.

_To be fair, I just might...._

“I have no doubt that it’s the truth, because this is exactly the sort of shit that would happen to me....” Nora bit, tensing her jaw defiantly as she tried to stymie the influx of fury burning a hole in her stomach. As best she tried, she couldn’t keep the cold, dispassionate rage from seeping into her tone. “They stole you, Shaun. They kidnapped you and killed your father for trying to protect you. How can you possibly justify becoming a part of this place?”

“I can understand that to you, it would seem that way, but to the Institute? It was the only logical choice for the continuation of humanity.” He began, turning to watch her carefully as he continued.

Nora could feel the panic well up in her chest as soon as he started launching into a painfully monotone speech about the inexcusable justification for the Institute’s decisions over sixty years prior. 

It was too canny, too much a reminder of her Nate.

Shaun was standing directly across from her, looking almost identical to his father and she didn’t know how to even look at him. As much as every part of her body told her to run, she couldn’t. Because it was her son, it was her child, standing there staring back at her,

_He looks so much like Nate would have.... If he had been allowed to live._

It wasn’t fair, that he could be the spitting image of the man she had loved almost recklessly with every fiber of her being and be so painfully cruel as he justified the atrocities that had occurred at the direct hand of the Institute. The very entity she’d come to hate, personified in the visage of her son... of her husband.

She almost couldn’t resist the urge to implode on his as he spouted some bullshit about collateral damage and the greater mission of the Institute.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you hear yourself? His death was not an ‘unfortunate bit of collateral damage’. He was murdered, trying to help you, you ungrateful-” Nora let out an angry laugh as she looked at Shaun’s surprised expression. “You have no idea how much he loved you, and for you to stand there and act like he was a casualty of war instead of a victim of the cold blooded inhumanity that _your_ organization seems so apt to excuse is nothing short of disgusting.”

“I need you to realize that this... situation... is far more complicated than you could have imagined.” He offered, turning to walk into the adjacent room, pointing to the large windows within. “Look at all the Institute has been able to accomplish over the past few decades alone. We have replicated food and wildlife that hasn’t been around in centuries. This could revolutionize the human experience, don’t you see?”

She could feel her furious breaths heaving against her chest as she looked over the courtyard below and forced her voice into one of cold composure. “I understand utilitarianism. I get where you and your _associates_ think what happened is acceptable, but it’s not. All this advancement? It doesn’t matter, not when you don’t show an ounce of remorse for the loss of human life.”

Shaun sighed, mirroring her own frustrated gesture almost to an unnerving tee. “This is bigger than the life of one man-”

“That man is your father, you fucking-” She caught herself quickly, looking to the floor only long enough to compose herself. “At least acknowledge who he was to you. Acknowledge his _sacrifice_.”

“I’ll admit... I’m quite surprised at you. I never imagined that my mother would be such an angry woman.” Shaun stated flatly, his hands clasped behind his back as he slowly turned back toward her.

“Angry? Yeah. I’m angry. I’m furious at this world. I’m full of rage, all the time, because I have had the unique experience of seeing exactly how much human greed and corruption has taken from humanity.” Nora hissed, no longer bothering to hide her raging disapproval. “I’m seething as I stand here, surrounded by all this technology and advancement that you have kept hidden while people above ground suffer and die because of it. I hate what this place represents because I am burdened by the curse of love. I love the people of this world, almost as much as I love you, and it destroys me. I am angry because I see the pain and suffering of my fellow man. I’m furious and disappointed, because I know that you could do so much better than this. You could actually help them, but you don’t.”

At her words, she saw a flash of irritation cross his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The movement was familiar, and she almost laughed as he answered, his voice tense but composed. “That's precisely the point, mother. You've been in the Commonwealth. You've seen what it's like. The Institute can provide a better life than anything above ground, and I assure you that you are better off with us."

“And turn my back on everyone else? Do you really think I’m that selfish?” She challenged, her irritation still present but rapidly dispersing after her outburst.

“You stated that you want to help them... Humanity. I simply ask that you give the Institute, and by extension _me_ , a chance. Give me a a day or two, just permit me a chance to show you what I've been telling you. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed with what you see.” Shaun proposed, his face relaxed and peaceful as he constructed his pitch with ease.

_Damn if he is not the embodiment of his father. He could sell ice to a polar bear._

Nora paused, taking several minutes to really consider his words while she watched the bustle of people down below. As much as she wanted to hate the Institute and flee back into the comfort of what she knew, a larger, more pressing part of her couldn’t even consider leaving. Shaun was there, her son, even if he wasn’t what she had expected. After she already failed him by not being able to protect him or see him grow up, she at least owed him a chance.

“Okay.” She replied sarcastically, extending her hand toward the window with a flourish. “It’s take your mom to work day, so how about you give me the grand tour.”

“Ah, levity. Excellent, that’s certainly a sure sign that you adapt quickly to stressful environments.” He joked, the briefest of smiles pulling at the corner of his lips.

Nora bit out a laugh, before looking back out the window, her eyes going distant. “You have no idea.”

*

It had taken them almost three hours to meet all of the department heads, each one regarding her with a mixture of fear and an almost inappropriate level of curiosity. There had been many times in Nora’s life when she felt out of place, but never so much as when she was finally shown to her room and had the misfortune of catching her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

She felt like she was looking like someone else, the dark circles from sleep deprivation rivaled by the uncharacteristic gauntness of her face. Where her cheeks had once been soft and full, her eyes full of life, she looked like a shadow of herself.

Like a ghost.

In a way, Nora thought, maybe she was.

Without thinking, she reached forward to touch her reflection, as if not willing to believe that the face staring back so devoid of life at her was actually her own. Almost as soon as she felt the cool glass beneath her fingers, hot, angry tears began burning her eyes, spilling over in an instant as she collapsed to the floor. The faint echo of her sobs in the small, pristine bathroom surrounded her, taunting as they tore out of her chest.

Every emotion that she had been bottling up for the past few months poured out, her desperate gasps for breath striping her throat raw as she cried, curling in on herself against the cold, ceramic floor.

Shaun had looked so much like Nate, a small part of her hoped he was, despite the impossibility and implication of such an idea. It didn’t matter how or why, she just wanted her family back. She had really believed that the child synth was her baby and not just a cruel experiment by her actual son who seemed to lack any concept of ethics or morality.

That fact was something that had become painfully clear as he almost preened at the abuse of technology that had occurred under his guidance. The pride that rippled through his words as he explained the creation of the synths almost killed her, squandering any hope that Shaun would ever change his ways. He was too old and it was far too late to undo the damage of time.

Nate had been nothing more than an unfortunate bit of collateral damage to his own son. The child who he sacrificed everything for, ignorant of the wonderful man who he bore the heartbreaking visage of.

For the first time since waking, Nora was glad that she was the one who had lived. To see what their son had become was a different form of torture far worse than death, and she deserved it as a means of accountability for her insurmountable sin. Nate had been a fundamentally good person, far too good for her despite his foolish belief on the contrary, and he deserved eternal peace instead of whatever punishment the universe decided to impart on her by letting her exist in the hellscape of a world.

Nora cried until she was certain that she would die from dehydration, too impoverished and profoundly empty to move, the chill of the floor slowly seeping into her bones. As the last gasp passed her lips, she finally allowed herself to breathe, the fuzziness of her surroundings slowly coming back into view as she slowed her breathing. She was only vaguely aware that she had lost feeling in her fingers as the capillaries slowly began filling with blood, prickling and tingling as they regained an appropriate oxygen concentration.

It was by chance alone that she was able to crawl into the shower, barely mustering the strength to turn the water on. The water was actually hot, warming her in a way that she hadn’t experienced in centuries as it cascaded over her crumpled figure. If she had not been completely exhausted it would have been almost funny. She was in one of the most corrupt and wicked places in the Commonwealth, but at least they had hot water.

Nora eventually managed to actually wash herself, she scrubbed herself until her skin felt raw, her mind working double time to try and sort out her thoughts. As she turned off the water, she watched the glistening suds as they trailed rapidly down the drain, humming to herself absentmindedly.

“Nuku, nuku nurmilintu...” She muttered, half singing as she grabbed a towel, slowly drying herself. “Väsy, väsy, västäräkki.”

It was as if she was no longer in control of her own movements, acting on autopilot as she dressed in the impeccably clean pair of grey pants and matching sweater that laid folded in the dresser, blessedly not the same offensive bright white the rest of the uniforms she had seen.

Apparently , she realized, they had anticipated her arrival and picked out the outift with her in mind. Even in the Institute with her own son, it was just another reminder that she did not belong there, letting everyone spot her as an outsider from a mile away. Not that it would have been hard, she looked like a soldier compared to the doughy, pale faces she had seen on the tour.

Just like she had once looked.

Nora closed her eyes as she laid against the bed, singing the familiar lullaby that had once soothed her on the rare chance her mother was feeling maternal. “Nuku nurmelle hyvälle... Vaivu maalle valkialle.”

The final night she had stayed up with Shaun was the last time she allowed herself to sing the haunting refrain as she rocked him, watching his tiny fingers reach for her hair, almost grasping a strand as he began to slowly blink up at her.

Where the memory had once given her hope that one day she’d bring Shaun home and sing him to sleep again, that night, she felt nothing.

She thought of how futile all her efforts had been ever since waking up, her goal, much like her life, felt pointless.

_I should have thrown myself in that grave with Nate when I had a chance._

She could feel the warm embrace of sleep pulling at her mind, desolated by the stress of the day as she gently continued to hum to herself. “Nuku, nuku nurmilintu...”

*

Danse was half certain he could hear every blood cell racing through his blood vessels, angrily pounding against his head, the pressure at the base of his skull mounting with every passing second. The rancid taste of vodka coated his mouth, drying his throat and he half retched as he open his eyes to the offending brightness of the lamp on his desk. He vaguely remembered stumbling back to his quarters in the early afternoon, only after Swinton had slapped his shoulder far more forcefully than was strictly necessary and told him that he had drank enough for them both.

It had been years since he had been so intoxicated, and the pulsing ache pressing into his temples was a harsh reminder that he was no longer a young initiate sneaking off to party in the city. As he moved to stand, Danse was half certain he was going to be ill, wincing at the wave of nausea that nearly bested him.

Of all the reckless self-pitying things he’d done in his life, sneaking off to get drunk in the middle of the day after Nora had vaporized in front of his eyes was certainly up there. Then again, when Cutler had died he had spent the better part of a week in a drunken stupor, so he figured it was par the course when it came to loosing people close to him.

Except that this time it was Nora, and she could very well be alive somewhere, with her only means back a smoldering heap in the ruins of the airport. And he loved her, damn it, even if he didn't deserve her. Danse was determined to figure out how to get her back and he rushed out the door, nearly colliding with an especially irate looking Maxson in the hallway.

“Elder.” Danse managed to force out, trying his best to focus on the younger mans face despite the raging migraine occupying the majority of his attention.

“Paladin Danse.” Maxson offered, his expression breaking into a frown. “Are you... intoxicated?”

From the pounding in his head, it was more than clear that he was on the downward of any semblance of inebriation. “Not presently, sir.” 

“Oh?” Maxson challenged, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his face intently. “Forgive the assumption. It’s just that you smell... rather flammable at the moment.”

_I feel rather flammable as well._

“Noted.” Danse answered plainly, eager to be finished with the conversation just as soon as it started.

“This is certainly not in your character to be so...” The younger man let out a frustrated breath of air. “I’ve never seen you behave in direct opposition to procedure, so I find it imperative that I ask... Is there something beyond the confines of professionalism going on between you and Knight Hartt?”

Even in his compromised state, Danse knew better than to expose such a transgression. “Negative, sir. While I will admit I had grown close to Knight Hartt and considered her a dear friend, there was nothing beyond that. I am well aware of the repercussions for such a grievous infraction.”

How easy it was to lie to the Elder, betraying the very code which had once guided his life, when it came to her. Maxson met his gaze for several moments, as if expecting to see the truth buried between the crypts and furrows of his eyes.

“Well... I suppose it’s no longer a matter of relevance... Considering.” He quipped, his voice almost amused, and the implications of the words inspired a flinch that Danse couldn’t quite conceal. The twitch of Maxson’s eyebrow as he noticed the reaction was almost imperceptible as he continued. “Though it certainly seems like you have grown _quite_ close... I find it hard to believe that you hadn’t considered such an... indiscretion.”

Danse could feel the back muscle of his jaw tense, betraying every ounce of deception as he forced out the lie. “Never, sir.”

The corner of Maxson’s mouth turned up smugly at the response. “Or maybe it’s that you have considered it and she wasn’t receptive?”

“With all due respect, Elder, I hardly think a discussion of this nature is prudent.” Danse answered, barely repressing the surge of anger at the way his old friend seemed to take such pleasure out of toying with the topic.

“I suppose not.” He agreed, his face falling back into it’s usual stoic expression. “Regardless, I would advise you to clean yourself up. You hardly look fit to lace a boot in your current state.”

"Yes sir.” As harsh as the criticism was, Danse had no doubt of it’s accuracy. 

“And Danse?” Maxson pause, his eyes softening slightly as they met his own. “I’m aware that the loss of yet another one if your friends is difficult... If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you Arthur. I appreciate it.” He murmured with a nod as he made toward the showers, determined to pull himself together. For Nora’s sake.

*

Nora could feel herself falling, staring at the the angry crowd looming over her as the walls of the vault flew by with alarming speed, the crack of Nate’s voice as he resisted Kellogg echoing around the cold metallic chamber. It had been almost a near-exact replica of her usual nightmares, flashes of Nate’s body going limp, of Shaun being ripped from his arms, almost always ending with the angry crowd of people she knew cornering her and pushing her back into the literal hole she had crawled out of. Except that time, the crowd had been following Shaun’s orders as he stared out his window with a smug smile, watching as she plummeted to her death.

The raspy gasps of her breath against her sore throat resounded around the too bright room, the ostentatious cleanliness offending her tired eyes as she blinked her surroundings into view.

The Institute. The very place that was supposed to be the embodiment of evil, glistening around her in the faded white lamp light. Where her son was the unopposed leader and messiah, guiding the organization’s every heinous move without so much as a second thought.

As her heart rate began to slow, Nora allowed herself to actually feel the brunt of her feelings as her initial shock and hysteria started to wear away. Everything she had seen in the Institute lead her to the very conclusion about what she would need to do, and as much as the realization broke her heart, even though she knew it would kill her, the decision had been made for her long ago. 

She couldn’t allow them to continue, but she also couldn’t live with herself if she was the direct cause of such a significant loss of life, certainly not if she allowed any harm to come to her son, in spite of his lack of humanity.

The clock on her PipBoy told her it was shortly after two in the morning, and she quickly made her way to the door, which opened immediately as she approached. Doctor Li probably wouldn’t be awake at such an hour, but at the very least, the cover of night should allow her the security to download whatever data Maxson was looking for and give her a chance to try to find the mysterious serum Virgil had mentioned.

For the most part, the hallways were deserted, save for the few synths who had the apparent misfortune of pulling janitorial duty. It wasn’t until Nora had successfully made her through the BioScience doors that she had spotted the child from earlier messing with the closest terminal, his eyes going wide as he spotted her.

The child who Shaun had created to be an identical clone of him as he still tried to maintain that S9 was just a synth. She knew that S9 wasn’t Shaun, but in a way, he also was. Attempting to sort out her thoughts and feelings on the matter was impossible, so she didn’t bother to even try.

“It’s not -” He started, his voice shaking.

“What it looks like?” She answered with a faint smile, nodding to the screen. “What are we trying to burgle so early in the morning?”

“I’m not trying to _break in,_ it’s not my fault if they make their passwords so easy!” S9 objected, looking over her shoulder quickly. “Are you going to tell on me?”

Nora let out a gleeful laugh, shaking her head. _Of course he’s a troublemaker._ “No way, on one condition.”

“Okay.” He offered, crossing his arms defiantly, and she couldn’t help the bloom of pride that grew in her chest at his apparent distrust.

“You let me come with.” She challenged, raising her eyebrow as she mirrored his stubborn movement.

“I... I don’t know. You were acting weird earlier.” He replied cautiously, watching her as if anticipating another outburst.

The memory of how scared the child had looked at her as she wept pulled at her chest, her voice weak. “You-You remember earlier?”

“Yeah... Father said you thought I was your son and that was why you were so upset, but that you were just confused.” S9 explained, a clear look of disappointment crossing his face.

“Yeah.” Nora admitted, forcing a tense smile to her lips. “I was just confused... I’m sorry if I scared you, but I promise, I mean you no harm.”

S9 looked toward the floor, biting his lip nervously before answering with a quick nod. “I believe you.”

“You do?” She pressed, narrowing her slightly eyes as she watched his expression. “Why?”

“I dunno. You just seem like someone I can trust.” He answered with a shrug, turning back to the terminal and typing once more. “I want to get into the abandoned wing. There’s supposed to be all sorts of cool experiments down there, but if we go the back way, I heard that there’s a lot of monsters and evil robots.”

“Well let’s be sure not to go that way.” She agreed, leading them to where S9 indicated the hallway in the corner, making sure to check over their shoulders as they slipped inside the door he apparently made quick work out of hacking into. “You’re pretty good at this stuff... I bet you get into all sorts of place you’re not supposed to.”

S9’s mouth broke into a proud grin at her approval of her antics. “I can get into anywhere in the whole entire Institute, as long as Liam or X6 don’t see me. Doctor Li is pretty bad at watching me, so she never catches me.”

Nora couldn’t stifle the laugh that broke free. “Let me guess, that’s where you’re supposed to be right now?”

S9 just shrugged, hiding behind her as the turned the corner and reaching for her hand, which she immediately took. At the contact, he looked up, a terrified look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to hold anyone’s hand-”

“It’s okay. It’ll be our secret, okay?” She rushed, not wanting to let go of the child who was the very image of her son that she would never see as a child again. “I’ll keep you safe though, so if you hear anything scary, you don’t need to worry.”

“Really?” The words hung in the air like smog, settling into the worn linoleum painfully slow.

_Jesus, was he really not allowed to hold someone’s fucking hand?_

“Of course. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She promised, squeezing his hand as they continued through the abandoned offices silently.

“Are you really Father’s mom?” He asked quietly, looking up at her with wide, curious eyes.

Nora let out a slow breath before speaking, forcing any indication of distress at the topic out of her voice. “Yes... Yes I am. I haven’t seen him for a very long time, but I love him very much.”

S9 looked to the ground with a frown before muttering, “Oh... I wish you were my mom.”

It was as if her heart had been ripped right for her chest at his words, and she immediately dropped to her knees, pulling him into a hug with a shaky breath. “Me too, sweetie. I-I’m sorry that I’m not... But we can be the best of friends, is that okay?”

At the motion, he buried his head against her chest, nodding as he returned the embrace. “Okay... Can I pretend that you're my mom? I won’t tell anyone...”

“Of course you can.” She breathed, holding him for several moments longer before pulling away, the prickle of tears ever apparent at the corner of her eyes. “I would be honored.”

“Really?” He asked, his voice cracking at the syllable.

At the question, Nora bit out a sad chuckle, running a hand through his short, tight curls that looked so much like Nate’s. “Hell yeah. You’re smart as a whip and you like to get in trouble. You might be one of my favorite people in all of the Commonwealth.”

S9 gave a wide smile at the words, wrapping his arms around her waist quickly before pulling away. “Then you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

The words pressed against her chest, and she gave him a warm grin as she rose to stand. “Good... Now how about we finish breaking into this scary, abandoned laboratory?”

“It’s not going to be _scary_.” He objected with a dramatic roll of his eyes, immediately grabbing her hand as they continued down the halls.

“How do you know?” Nora challenged, barely fighting the amused laugh at S9’s sudden worried frown. “We’ll be just fine, you and me.”

“I know.” He agreed, looking around the corners intently as they walked.

“Just if anyone asks, I was helping you with homework or something.” She warned, keeping her spare hand resting over her pistol as they continued.

“What? You can help me with my homework?” S9 questioned, stopping immediately.

Academic acumen was not something she was particularly known for, but she knew she should at least try. “I... Do you need help with your homework? You’re what, ten? Like, what sort of homework do you have, multiplications? I mean, I think that’s what we did back then...”

S9 rolled his eyes at her question as he continued walking with a sigh far more frustrated than any ten year old had a right to be. “No multiplications are for the dumb kids, I have geometry and physics and biology, but I finished my biology sheets earlier.”

“Jesus. So you’re really are smart, huh?” Nora pressed, making sure to step in front of him as the rounded the corner, the hairs on her neck suddenly standing at attention.

“I dunno, I guess so...” He mumbled, squeezing her hand briefly. “The other kids use to get mad when I answered all the questions, and now they won’t play with me anymore.”

Her eyes locked with the mutants suspended in large tubes, squelching the rise of panic in her throat as she spoke. “They’re just jealous that they’re not as smart as you. Not everyone can be a genius you know... What’s your favorite subject?”

“I really like Biology and Geometry, but Physics confuses me.” S9 confessed, moving to stand behind her and grip her leg as he noticed the creatures before him.

“Yeah? I never liked Geometry...” The words felt foreign, but she knew she needed to pretend to be calm, at least for S9’s benefit. “It seems pretty fu-freaking stupid to just measure shapes. I was actually pretty good at Physics, if you want any help with that.”

“You are?”

At the question she let out a nervous laugh, running a faint hand through his hair, half smirking at the wayward curls. “Shit, don’t sound so surprised. I’m not quite as dumb as I look.”

“I think you look _really_ pretty, like a warrior princess.” He reassured, a saccharine grin breaking across his face.

“Yeah? I bet you talk yourself out of all sorts of trouble with flattery like that, huh?” Nora challenged, watching the forced smirk relax into a genuine smile.

The mutants suspended in the tubes appeared to be dead or at least unconscious, which was a relief and she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body at the observation. S9 shrugged as he seemed to realize the same thing.

“Sometimes.” He admitted, the feigned shyness blatant by the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

“I bet.” She relented, turning to closest terminal in front of her with a sigh. Slipping the holotape into the port, she shot another weary glance toward the creatures which were thankfully still motionless.

Almost immediately, he was peering over her shoulder intently, watching as she struggled to transpose the files onto the tape. “You’re really bad at this.”

“Hey-”

“I’m just being _honest.”_ He complained, resting his head against her upper arm with an annoyed sigh. “Do you want me to help?”

“Smart-ass.” She mumbled under her breath before offering a wide smile. “You think you’re so clever? Go for it.”

Nora watched as S9 began typing on the terminal, entering codes that she could only barely comprehend with a proud beaming grin. “So why do you want to download all these files?”

“I...” While she clearly needed his help, it wasn’t something she necessarily wanted to get him involved with, certainly not wanting to put him at risk for whatever punishment the Institute would deem fit for treason. “It’s a secret.”

“I bet I could figure it out.” He challenged, briefly pausing to look up her, cocking his head defiantly.

_I bet you could... Jesus he's stubborn._

She ran a frustrated hand over her face as she weighed her option, watching him work out of the corner of her eye. “It’s something that could get you in a lot of trouble, so it’s better if you don’t know the specifics.”

“I won’t tell, I promise!” At her skeptical glance, S9 elaborated with a sad pout. “No one else here is nice to me, so I don’t even have anyone to tell anyways.”

“I’m trying to find a serum that Doctor Virgil left here a long time ago.” Nora answered, toeing the line between truth and deception as she continued. _Any good lie has a little bit of reality in it._ “I thought that if I couldn’t find it, I could at least help him get some of his old research.”

He ejected the cartridge and extended it to her.“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“Only a little bit, but trust me, it’s just to keep you safe.” She promised, reaching forward to squeeze his arm before taking the holotape. “Now how about that serum, any ideas brainiac?”

“That was his terminal, I guess this was his desk then?” He offered hopefully.

“You would make a good detective you know.” Nora praised, unable to fight the bloom of pride in her chest at the child’s deduction skills as she began search the desk.

“Really? Father gave me some old books about detectives, and I always thought it would be super cool to help people.” The confession was adorable and she couldn’t fight the wide smile that broke across her face.

“Yeah? I bet you can be a detective some day. I have a friend who’s a detective you know? He helps find people when they go missing.” She answered, a wave of relief rushing through her as she grasped the large syringe in the back of the draw filled with alarming blue liquid. Besides a few pieces of scrap paper and the mysterious serum, the desk was otherwise empty. “This must be it... Let’s get the hell out of here and get you back to Doctor Li before she has a conniption.”

S9 crossed his arms and pouted, mimicking his best puppy dog eyed expression as he looked up at her. “Do we have to?”

“I'm afraid so. I need to see her anyways, so it’s on my way.” She insisted, grasping his hand as she guided him toward the doorway, shooting a final, cautious glance to the mutants behind them. “Come on.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, lacing his fingers with hers as they made their way back through the hallways, looking carefully around as they reemerged back into the abandoned BioScience division unnoticed.

That was, until a panicked, half-asleep looking Doctor Li rushed through the doors, nearly toppling over as she turned the corner. “S9-23, what are you doing out of bed? How many times have I told you that you are to remain dormant between the hours of 9 pm and 7 in the morning?”

“I was bored.” He answered with a shrug, quickly releasing Nora’s had with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry, Father’s mom was just bringing me back.”

Doctor Li let out a frustrated breath, looking up to meet her eyes. “Thank you for retrieving S9-23 for me... The synth is particularly fond of disappearing.”

Nora had to fight every urge to bristle at how the older woman referred to S9 as ‘the synth’, forcing a tense smile to her face. “It’s no worry. He’s pretty awesome, I had a good time chatting with him.”

“You-You talked to him for an extended period of time? Oh Christ-” Li cut herself off, shaking her head. “How about we keep this little... impromptu excursion between us?”

“Sure. I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about, Doctor... Between us and all.” Nora countered, watching the sudden shadow cross Li’s face.

“Very well. I believe I know all too well what this is about... I always knew you guys would find me again.” She agreed, waving toward the Advanced System’s corridor. “Let’s go back to my lab. I can get you that PipBoy and discuss everything further.”

“I’d be delighted.” Nora quipped, winking at an amused looking S9 as they entered the hallway in question.

*

It had been two painfully boring days of sitting through board meetings which she could barely comprehend, playing the part of dutiful mother as she accompanied Shaun every where he went, pretending to be anything other than horrified about the coming ‘advancements’. The moment she had seen the ‘construction process’ of the synths, she had almost lost her lunch, not that the flavorless stew was particularly appetizing to begin with.

But she had tried to be patient, to understand how the innocent life of her stolen baby had turned into someone so cruel and emotionless. A part of her knew exactly how it happened. By all accounts, Shaun had grown up without any sort of affection or humanity, being indoctrinated from childhood about what was right and what was wrong.

Who was she to judge him for his assumptions, especially considering she hadn’t been around to sway him to the contrary? Still, it broke her heart in more ways than one to see him treat the lives of people, even if they were synths, as if they weren’t worth anything. Hell, she knew that he treated common wastelanders as if their lives were expendable too, if she was being honest with herself. But as much as she was diametrically opposed to everything he represented, he was still her son, and a part of her knew that she still wanted to protect him at all costs.

Nothing had prepared her for the conversation she had overheard as she went to meet him in his office that night. It has just been a few words from the doctor checking Shaun’s vitals, but his resigned expression had confirmed the implication explicitly.

_“It's stage 4... I’m sorry, sir.... We knew it was terminal, and we’ve tried everything we know.”_

The gasp that escaped her mouth was deafening, the desolate emptiness in Shaun’s eyes as he met hers shattering any hope at rekindling all that they had lost in the years gone past.

She had barely bit out a lame excuse about how she had to go back home but would be back in a few days before she had half run out of the room, nearly colliding with a panicked looking S9 as she rounded the corner.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, a disappointed expression pulling at his soft, achingly familiar eyes.

Nora swallowed down her overwhelming panic just long enough to provide a few words of promise that she didn’t know if she would ever keep. Another child counting on her, who she would inevitably fail. “Only for a little bit.”

“Something bad is going to happen, isn’t it?” S9 challenged, a quick flash of anger streaking across his eyes.

“Yes.” She admitted, pulling him into a quick hug. “But I’m going to come back for you, okay? I promise... On my life, I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

He immediately tightened the embrace, resting his head on her should. “Take me with you... Please? ...Please don’t leave.”

“I have to sweetie, but I _will_ come back.” She let out a shaky breath, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes and hold his cheek. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I... I guess so... I trust you.” He mumbled, looking dejectedly to the floor as he dropped his arms to his side.

“Good.” Nora assured, moving to stand. “That’s what mom’s do, they keep you safe, even if it means they have to leave for a little bit.”

S9 looked up at her, his eyes going wide with hope at her words. “They do?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what they do.” She promised, squeezing his shoulder briefly before nodding to the PipBoy on her wrist. The outpouring of emotion she was fighting to repress tearing at her throat. “I’ll be back, kiddo. You stay out of trouble until then, alright?”

At the warning, he let out a dramatic sigh before agreeing, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Fine... Mom.”

*

Danse had just started to doze off at the terminal closest to the deconstructed remnants of the Molecular Relay when the heated conversation next to him drew his attention. He looked up just in time to see Proctor Ingram turn away from Maxson, a frustrated scowl pulling at the corners of her mouth. The pair had been debating for the better part of two days about how to proceed with the rebuilding process for the device, all the while Danse had been determined to figure out how to fix the damn thing that seemed to have more parts than the entire Brotherhood’s arsenal of laser rifles, none of which seemed to be consist even with each other. He had barely slept since the first day after Nora’s disappearance, and it was through weakness alone that he had even allowed himself to doze off while reviewing the plans that night.

The sudden crack of electricity overhead drew his attention, the sky lighting up with a bright white light, unlike anything he had ever seen before. A high-pitch whine deafening him as a flash of heat rolled over the airport, before every piece of technology and lightening went completely out. He looked around, trying to make out anything beyond the alarmingly pressing silence. The familiar terrified gasp of breath drew his attention toward the Relay platform. By God, he would recognize that voice anywhere.

_She’s alive, and she’s right there._

The lights instantly lit back up, blinding him as he stopped just short of the platform, the angry beeps from the control panel being promptly rebooted echoing behind him.

But the hordes of Ganghis Kahn could have been charging toward the airport behind him, because nothing mattered, because she was there, alive, even in spite of her obvious distress.

The sight of her crumbled, kneeling figure tore at his chest, her eyes achingly empty as she looked up, immediately meeting his own.

Before he would interject, Maxson was reaching for her, lifting her up and steadying her as she sway, muttering something to her as she looked toward the ground, ripping her arm away in a way that was almost violent.

“Fuck off.” She bit, meeting Maxson’s eyes as she reached toward her pistol. “The first thing you ask me after I disappear for three days inside the Institute is if I found Doctor Li? Fuck right off and go straight to Hell. Do not pass ‘Go’, do not collect 200. Fuck you.”

At Nora’s sudden outburst, a nervous hush fell over the rapidly growing crowd, everyone looking toward their neighbor in shock.

Maxson’s eyes went suddenly dark as he let out an angry scoff, barely concealing his fury as he spoke. “I can... _appreciate_ that you’re distressed, but I must remind you to use some semblance of professionalism Kni -”

“Shut up!” She cried, reaching into her pocket and tossing the familiar orange square to the ground, bringing the heel of her boot over it and stomping on it several times. The sound of cracking plastic as she crushed the holotape was the only sound echoing through the courtyard before she continued, her breath heavy with exertion. “You want your precious information? There, take your fucking intel. I’m done. I quit. Fuck you and that blimp you rode in one, you pathetic little -”

“Knight Hartt!” Danse exclaimed, the panic at her blatant insubordination in front of such a large gathering of their fellow soldiers pushing him to act on impulse. “That’s enough, I implore you to show some respect.”

Nora turned toward him, an angry smirk on her lips. “Oh... Knight Hartt, is it?”

“I-” Danse started, any objection immediately cut short at her bitter, sardonic laugh.

_That's not what I meant, damn it._

“No, you know what, I knew this from the get go. Nothing comes before the Brotherhood, right? Don’t even worry about it.” She let out a bitter laugh, pushing past numerous people as she stormed off and disappeared into the growing group of terrified onlookers.

Just as he started after her, Maxson’s hand gripped around his arm, turning him to meet his eyes. “If you value your career with the Brotherhood, you will fix this. Knight Hartt is the only person with any insight about what we’re up against, you’re to find her, discipline her for such a blatant disregard to decorum, and bring her back. This is not negotiable... Are we clear, Paladin?”

“Absolutely, sir.” He agreed, every passing second that Nora was out of sight eating a hole in his chest that he knew would be impossible to fill.

Maxson released his arm, turning back toward the small crowd around them. “As for everyone else, you are to refrain from discussing what you saw here tonight, even with each other, under penalty of discharge and disgrace. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

The anxious chorus of ‘No sirs’ that echoed behind Danse as he rushed through the airport was only drowned out by the pounding of his heart in his temples, shame and regret moving through him in waves for not responding better.

Everything had just happened so fast. He knew he should have defended her to Maxson, should have pulled her into his arms, not even caring about the implications or who saw. Because now she had up and disappeared again, and he had no idea where she could have possibly gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm the sort of asshole producer who would do jump scares with the whole Nate thing... Cause how fucked up with that twist be?
> 
> Nora is bad at mental health and emotions mmk?
> 
> We get actually more canon divergent in coming chapters.
> 
> In other news, if you follow me for updates on That Blog Site (TM) I am utzkeredmonster and if you want to donate to my broke self, my coffee has the same tag as on here.


	42. He's a Demon, He's a Devil, He's a Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone tells me he's no good  
> He doesn't love me like he should  
> I would forget him if I only could  
> He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will eventually read these for grammar.... but not TODAY
> 
> Uhhh.... More super slutty chapters. I don't know. Don't be mad at me. This is my show, yall just bought the tickets.
> 
> "No post November. Ry will NOT post -" *November 4th* 
> 
> "Fuck"
> 
> *shameless self promote* 
> 
> I have a Ko Fi if you like what I do... you should also follow my blog for this fic specifically on That Blog Site.

Danse had barely made it fifteen minutes south of the Boston Airport when he spotted the two people in the world who he least wanted to see. As if the evening couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Nick acknowledged him first, watching him with a blatant look of skepticism as he nodded in his direction. “Danse.”

“Valentine.” He offered politely, not particularly in the mood to cause any unnecessary conflict with the synth when there were much more substantial things he was trying to accomplish, like _finding Nora_.

“Deacon!” The Railroad agent interjected with a forced jolly tone as he threw his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “You won’t believe this, but you were _just_ the rusty old tin can we were looking for this evening, man.”

“How fortunate for me.” Danse stated dryly, shooting Nick a quick glance, relieved that the detective at least mirrored his annoyed expression.

“Okay, well you got me, we were _actually_ looking for Nora.” Deacon explained, gesturing to the area behind them dramatically.

“So I gathered.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Deacon, searching for the deeper emotion behind the facade of flamboyance. Despite the almost peppy tone, it was clear the other man harbored some level of irritation toward him and he wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn't as if they were the best of buds, but there was something almost antagonistic in the air between them.

“We figured the large blast of light over the airport probably had something to do with her." Nick elaborated, taking a pack of cigarette’s from his coat and offering one to Deacon who happily took it. "Seemed like the sort of trouble she’d get herself into.”

_Isn't that the truth._

“You’re not incorrect, but...” Danse let out a frustrated breath, not wanting to divulge exactly why she wasn’t by his side at the moment. “She’s not here.”

“Ah Christ, is she-” Nick started, his face falling instantly at the implication.

“No.” Danse rushed, hesitating only briefly before adding. “Nora’s - she... She just left.”

The words hurt to say, striping his throat raw at the admittance as if he had swallowed gravel. The sensation was only worsened by Nick and Deacon’s matching disappointed but not surprised expressions.

“Yeah well, no shock there.” Deacon mumbled half to himself, earning himself a glare from Danse that cold melt tungsten faster than the speed of a bullet.

“Alright lads, put ‘em away. We all have the same goal here, I’m sure.” Nick immediately volunteered, offering Danse a sympathetic but forced nod. “Everyone’s been looking for her for the past week or there abouts. From the looks of it, she was last seen headed into the Institute, right?”

Danse ran a quick hand over his face before answering. “You would be correct. She made it inside and just returned a short while ago.”

“But she ... left?” The detective offered carefully, watching his expression as if he could read every thought and emotion underneath. For all Danse knew, he could.

“What the hell did you do -” Deacon demanded, a forced, artificial laugh only slightly masking the judgmental tone of his accusation.

“Deacon.” Nick warned, shooting a quick look between the men.

“I’m just saying, she’s not the sort to just up and disappear without a reason.” He answered with an over exaggerated shrug.

“It’s not important _why_ -” Danse gritted, barely containing his frustration at the agonizingly accurate analysis.

“Like hell it’s not!” The Railroad agent objected, any semblance of feigned amusement gone from his tone, replaced with a cold fury that matched his own.

“Deacon, if you can’t be amicable, you need to take a lap.” Nick ordered, dropping the cigarette butt to crush it under his shoe with a sigh.

At the instruction, Deacon cocked his head defiantly, looking up at Danse with glower. “I’m just saying, _I_ never lost track of her -”

“I didn’t _lose_ her -” Danse spat, stepping closer toward the other man at the implication.

Deacon’s face broke into an angry smirk at the movement. “No? Well it sure looks like ya did, buddy. Maybe she just came to her senses and realized that you were nothing spe-”

Nick immediately stepped between them, having apparently noticed the balled fists at Danse’s side that he was mere seconds from acquainting with Deacon’s face.

“That’s _enough_ , gentlemen.” He commanded, his tone cold and uncompromising as he turned to meet Deacon’s eyes. “Since _you_ feel the need to start a fight that I’m pretty sure we all know you’d lose, how about ya head back to HQ and cool down for a spell?”

Deacon bit out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he turned away, pulling another pack of cigarettes from his pocket and removing one that he quickly lit, extending his free arm in the air with an unmistakable middle finger in their general direction.

“I appreciate your intervention.” Danse offered carefully, scanning Nick’s face cautiously as he spoke. “I must confess I was fairly close to acting irrationally.”

“Yeah? You don’t say. And here I thought you two were about to hug it out.” Nick stated sarcastically, watching as Deacon disappeared behind the nearest ruins of what used to be a particularly delicious Thai restaurant.

Danse followed his glance, letting out a slow breath to compose himself before speaking. “It would seem that Deacon has the unique talent of inspiring such a reaction from me.” 

“Yeah? Well how about you tell me what _really_ happened with Nora tonight?” The detective pressed, causing Danse to go as still as a statue.

“I hardly think I need to explain myself to _you._ ” He bit, narrowing his eyes as Nick raised an amused eyebrow at the derision.

“Hey now, bucko, it’s no skin off of my back if you decide to pound sand at light-speed in the opposite direction, but given that I’ve known Nora a bit longer than you and actually have experience trackin’ people down out here, I wouldn’t suggest you burn the bridge with the only ally who knows what you two idiots are to each other.” Nick answered dryly, not bothering to conceal his own disinterest at the proposed partnership.

Danse took a slow inhale, taking several moments to consider the detective’s words before answering. “My apologies, Detective Valentine. I did not mean to be dismissive. I just... It would seem that I said the incorrect thing after she returned from the Institute and as a result, I inspired a significant level of distress due to my lack of foresight.”

“So ya put your foot in your mouth when she was already upset and she stormed off?” Nick quipped, waving his hand in the air as if dismissing the thought as soon as he voiced it.

“That would seem to be an accurate deduction.” Danse agreed ruefully, annoyed by the synth’s flippancy about the matter.

The corner of the detective’s mouth pulled up slightly as he nodded south toward Diamond City. “Welcome to relationships 101: Don’t do that. Especially with someone as impassioned as Nora.”

“And here I was going to make a habit of it.” Danse grumbled sardonically, falling in step behind Nick as they made their way toward the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth.

The pair walked in silence for a large portion of their journey, all the while Danse could feel Nick looking back at him, watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Eventually the detective realized he had been caught and offered an awkward smile. “Don’t mind me.”

“Is there a particular _reason_ that you’re watching me so fervently?” Danse challenged, unable to mask his irritation at the unwelcome scrutiny.

“I was actually just thinking how good you are for her.” Nick answered, toying anxiously with the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his trench coat. “You two... You seem like you balance each other out.”

“I - _What_?” He demanded, the words coming out harsher than he meant and he quickly tried to clarify. “I only mean ... You really believe that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kid. I _am_ capable of sincerity, despite the metal bits and all.” Nick quipped, nodding toward the security guard stationed outside the city. “But to answer your question, Paladin, _yes_. I think she needs someone like you to keep her balanced when she’s running around out here...”

Danse frowned, furrowing his eyebrows together at what Nick was saying just as much as what he wasn’t. “What do you mean?”

The detective let out a quick breath, looking behind them briefly before answering.

“She’s in a rough place mentally. I’m sure you’ve noticed that her grip on reality isn’t always the firmest. Which is understandable, considering all she’s been through, but when she’s with you ... You seem to keep her grounded in the moment, at least for the most part.” Nick shrugged, waving him inside the stadium impatiently. “I need you to know that I wouldn’t be sharin’ this if it was anyone other than you, but ... Even before the war, she had a substantial amount of PTSD, and given all she woken up to? I can only imagine it’s escalated quite a bit.”

“I... I _had_ noticed that a bit myself, however I wasn’t aware that it was so extensive.” Danse admitted, thinking back to the panic attacks Nora seemed to be so prone to.

“Yeah, well, like I said. She’s much better when she’s with you.” He answered, leading Danse toward the door of the Publick Occurrences building. “Come on, if anyone saw anything regarding Nora recently it would be these ladies. Well, if they’re even up so early in the morning.”

Danse looked to the bright red door with a scowl, regretfully following Nick inside. “Ah yes. More people who are not particularly keen on my presence.”

Nick let out a soft chuckle, nodding to the pair of sleeping women on the couch before leaning forward to whisper to him. “Hey, that’s not fair... I think little Nat likes you pretty well, especially after you showed her how to work the camera your other half got her at Christmas.”

At the terminology, Danse could feel a sudden warmth in his chest and he quickly cleared his throat. Much to his error, the abrupt noise woke the pair on the couch, causing a slew of curse words to pour out of Cait who rose to stand on the defensive as Piper groggily sat up, a soft smile on her face.

“Jeez, you two really need to learn to knock.” The reporter offered sleepily, reaching forward to grasp Cait’s arm and pull the other woman back down on the couch next to her.

The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Danse, given that the women had let themselves in Home Plate without so much as a a knock on multiple occasions, just in recent memory.

“Well if ya two are ‘ere it pro’ly means Nora ain’t with ya.” Cait grumbled, shooting Danse a particularly harsh stare.

“I ought to recruit you for your detective skills, Cait.” Nick answered smartly, a fact which inspired a strange sense of appreciation in Danse’s chest toward the synth. “Now come on, up and at ‘em, ladies. We got a General to find.”

*

Of all the people Hancock had expected to find passed out on his couch, Eleanora Hartt was at the bottom of the list. Not that it was an unwelcome visit, just an unexpected one. The last time he had seen her was a couple weeks prior, except she had the unfortunate shadow in the form of a large, angry brute named Paladin Danse. Even if the man actually did seem to be a decent enough guy, given Daisy’s account of how polite he had been while purchasing supplies with her, Hancock couldn’t get over the antagonism of their initial meeting.

Allowing the Brotherhood of Steel Paladin into his city, even only for the night, had caused him enough of a headache, angry ghouls and addicts banging on his door at all hours the following week, bitching about how he was ‘ruining Goodneighbor’. Had it not been for Nora, he never would have considered bending his steadfast rules, but he was becoming quickly aware that the woman had a way of getting what she wanted with just about everyone. Where she had a notorious mischievous streak, she also seemed to be able to talk herself out of whatever troublesome situation she would constantly back herself into.

It wasn’t as if he was sweet on her or nothing, but John had always been a sucker for a woman with a pretty face and an attitude. Hell, that was why he and Magnolia got on so well, after all.

Almost as soon as he entered the room, he knew something was severely wrong. Where Nora was normally on high alert, bordering on the cusp of malevolent hyper-vigilance, she barely so much as shifted when he knelt next to her. He was not a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t say a small prayer to anyone who was still watching over the scorched husk of the world that she was still alive and kicking. As he quickly felt for her pulse with bated breath, holding all the air in his lungs for several long moments as he placed his fingers over her carotid artery, he desperately hoped she wouldn’t be another casualty of the wasteland.

At his touch, her eyes flew open as she immediately sat up, gripping his wrist and twisting it back momentarily, applying a significant amount of pressure to the joint before relaxing her grasp, her eyes going wide. “Jesus, John, I didn’t -”

“No worries, sister.” He reassured, letting out a short laugh as he brought his arm back to his side with a shrug. “I’m just glad you’re still breathing, sunshine.”

Nora bit out a sad laugh, quickly swallowing as she reached for the brown bottle on the floor. “Only barely.”

“What’d you take?” He cautioned, scanning the table for any empty syringes or cartridges to confirm his suspicion that she had been enjoying herself a bit more than usual.

“Some... jet?” She guessed, taking a long swig from the bottle, wincing at the burn of the liquid. “I dunno... Bourbon. A lot of bourbon.”

“Any Med-X?” As much as he didn’t want to ask, he knew he had to press the matter, given that Rynder had been cutting his batches with less than pure additives. Burying any more friends over a bad dose was the last thing he needed.

At his question, Nora shot him a wary glare before answering. “You know I don’t fuck with that shit.”

_No, of course she wouldn’t..._

“Ah, shit. That’s right.” He grumbled, offering her a terse, apologetic smile in response.

“I... “ She quickly cleared her throat, looking down to the bottle cap she was toying with in between her fingers for a few second as she answered, her voice suddenly hoarse and cracking. “I just need to not _feel_ right now... Is it alright if I stay for a bit? I just - I didn’t know where else to go where everyone wouldn’t ask me a thousand questions.”

“Stay as long as you like, kitten. I aint got nowhere else to be.” He answered, flopping down on the couch across from her with a sigh. “Say, where’s your tin can boyfriend?”

It was as if a switch had been flipped, her eyes going suddenly dark and angry as she answered. “We’re not talking about him. Not now, not ever, got it?”

Hancock let out a slow whistle, removing the tin of Mentats from his coat. _Things are going that well, huh? There's a shocker..._ “You’re the boss. I’m just here in case ya need anything.”

“I know...” She acknowledged, running a frustrated hand through her hair. “Thanks, John.”

“Yeah, yeah...” He looked down to the line of empty bottles of various liquors lined up along the edge of the couch with a frown. “How long have you been here?”

Nora winced as she tried and failed to read the display on her PipBoy before shrugging, looking back up to meet his eyes. “Is it still Friday?”

_Ah shit. It’s bad bad, is it?_

“It’s Saturday... Well, Sunday by now.” The warm melt of the Mentats under his tongue was slowly bringing the details of his friend into focus.

“Christ... Well, where the fuck were you off to?” She mumbled, reaching for another cartridge of jet on the table.

“I had a few errands to run, mayoral duties and all that. Don’t worry about it.” He brushed, waving the concern away with a languid, fluid motion.

Nora let out a dry scoff, carefully staring down at the jet canister with a sigh. “I’ve seen what your ‘mayoral duties’ encompass. I’ll take a guess that it’s better I don’t know.”

“This is why you’re my vaultsicle, babe.” Hancock teased with a slight laugh, cracking his neck as he watched her turn over the bright red plastic cartridge in her hand.

“Pound sand, John.” She bit with a sad smirk.

He waved her comment away, watching as she leaned back against the couch with a frown. “What’s going on Nora?”

“Nora? Christ, I must _really_ be in trouble.” She quipped, shooting up an amused eyebrow as she inhaled the vapors, relaxing against the cushions with a peaceful smile that looked painfully out of place.

“Listen, you don’t got to tell me shit, but something is clearly eatin’ ya, and I’d be a dick not to ask.” It was the most genuine sort of concern he could muster without scaring her off outright, and he hoped it would be enough to encourage her to let out whatever was bothering her so significantly.

“I...’ She closed her eyes for several long minutes, to the point where he was half sure he was going to have to wake her to finish the conversation before continuing. “I found everything I was looking for, but nothing that I needed... That’s all I really want to say about it. Can I just get drunk and high and avoid my problems for a few more days before I have to put my big girl pants on?”

Hancock paused for a long breath before looking up, meeting her eyes intently. “ _Will you_ put your ‘big girl’ pants on?”

“Yeah... “ Nora bit out a bitter laugh, closing her eyes as a stray tear rolled down her cheek. “Eventually.”

_Fuck John, you really know how to make the girls cry, huh?_

“Well, be sure to see Magnolia. She’s been missing you-” He taunted, thinking that a bit of humor would help the situation.

At the comment, she shot him a look that could curdle milk, the muscles of her jaw tensing. “John-”

Despite every warning bell sounding off in his head, he continued. “Says your flirted with her only to leave her high and dry for -”

“I had _one_ rule-” She bit, not bothering to mask the fury in her tone.

_I was just going to say someone else._

“Never mind... Shit.” He looked away, pointing to the collection of bottles and drugs on the table. “Just a few days?”

“Yeah.” Nora croaked, wiping the angry tears that had traced glistening lines down her face.

John nodded, settling against the cushions with a shrug. “I can do that.”

“Thanks.” The word was so soft and vulnerable, in a way he didn’t imagine she could be, that he knew better than to ever turn her away when she was so in need of refuge.

“Anything for you, princess.” He agreed, a wayward sense of anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach at the assurance.

*

It had been well over twenty-four hours, approaching two full days, since Nora had slipped away from the ruins of the Boston Airport, disappearing without so much as a trace or goodbye. Danse knew that it was his fault, that he had been unspeakably insensitive in her moment of need, and his every waking moment was plagued by terrors of what misfortune could befall her alone in the Commonwealth. Much like the loses of his former teammates, he knew it would be his fault if something were to happen to her.

Except that she was more important to him than anyone else in the entirety of creation. If something happened to her, he was certain that it would absolutely kill him.

_She was always far too good for you, Danse._

Despite the news that she was with Mayor Hancock, of all people, laying low in Goodneighbor, it wasn’t enough to damper the surge of hope that flooded his chest. Because she was there, and most importantly, she was _alive_. It was only a matter of making amends and begging her to forgive his mortifying ignorance over what had happened back at the airport.

And if she actually forgave him for such a grievous betrayal? Danse was certain that there was nothing that could ever tear them apart.

As if by some miracle, the guards outside Goodneighbor didn’t even bother trying to deny him entrance, waving him inside instantly as he approached the door to both the city and the State House alike. It was probably more due to the fact that Fahrenheit was accompanying him into the city instead of his common wastelander attire that Nick has insisted her done, but he wasn’t prone to complain about that fact.

Even Hancock’s smug, smiling face as he entered the rickety old building couldn’t dissuade him from climbing the stairs and pleading for forgiveness from the woman who meant more to him than all the wealth in the world.

“Paladin Danse.” Hancock rasped, moving to sprawl in front of the steps of the staircase obstinately. “To what do I owe this unique pleasure?”

“You know precisely why I’m here.” He countered, fighting every urge to shove the other man aside and storm upstairs where Nora was supposedly only a couple stories over head.

“Oh, do I?” Hancock answered, tapping his chin dramatically as he blocked the path. “And here I expected at least a ‘thank you’ for sending word to ole Nicky Valentine that your gal was campin’ out here.”

“I appreciate your cooperation.” Danse offered coolly, trying not to allow his frustration to break through his tone, suspecting such irritation would only encourage the ghoul’s obstinance. “Now, please move.”

As soon as Danse tried to move around him, Hancock immediately stepped back in front of him with a self-assured grin. “Hey now, no love for your old pal? I’m heartbroken by your lack of hospitality.”

“This is _your_ home-” The words escaped before he could stop him, the realization hitting him far too late.

“Exactly, crew cut. This is _my_ home.” Hancock pressed, matching his cool gaze with a start, as if daring him to object further.

Danse quickly swallowed, recognizing he’d been out matched with a curt nod. “I... I see your point. Thank you, Mayor Hancock.”

“Now that’s more like it. What can I say? You Brotherhood folk got a reputation of decency to maintain. Heroes of the Commonwealth and all.” The ghoul preened, stepping out of his way and allowing him to pause before clearing his throat intently. “Hey, uh, Danse?”

The sudden gentle timber of Hancock's tone was alarming, and he immediately turned to meet his eyes.

“Yes?” Danse responded impatiently, battling every instinct to shove the stubborn man down the stairs for delaying his reunion with Nora further.

“She’s kinda fucked up right now, so I’ll clear the place out for ya. You know, for privacy reasons or whatever.” Hancock explained, waving his hand lazily at the words.

“I - I truly _do_ appreciate that...” Danse admitted, relieved that at least when it came to protecting Nora’s privacy that they were on the same page. “Thank you.”

As the ghoul turned toward the entrance of the State House, he stopped once more, shooting a neutral expression back toward him that he couldn’t quite identify. “Oh and uh, try not to touch her. She almost broke my wrist and laid Fahrenheit out for trying to wake her earlier.”

Danse had to force himself from displaying the surge of anger that rose in his chest at the notion of Hancock trying to touch Nora or care for her in any way during his absence. He knew it was wrong to be irritated at such an immature possessiveness, but he couldn’t completely stymie the feeling of jealousy and disdain growing in his stomach.

“I’m quite certain I’ll manage, but I appreciate the word of warning.” He offered plainly, starting up the stairs immediately, hoping to dissuade any further conversation.

“Your funeral, mate.” Hancock answered with a shrug as he sauntered down the last few steps with a quick scoff.

Every question or anxiety that was eating at Danse’s thoughts were blessedly absent as he made it up to the final landing, his thoughts and worries replaced by an abundance of relief at the sight of Nora’s sleeping figure, curled in on herself under the faded bed sheet. There was something unspeakably vulnerable and hopeless about the position that filled his chest with both regret and shame for not being there for her when she had needed him so completely.

Their final night together, he had promised to follow her to the ends of the Earth, but in the moment of truth he hadn’t even had the wherewithal to stand up for her to Maxson, and he hated himself for it.

The sound of Nora’s sudden inhale immediately drew his attention, and he was by her side in an instant, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as he scanned her face. As soon as he rested against the bed, Nora let out a faint whimper, her expression contorting into one of pain. Almost as if directed by instinct, Danse reached forward, gently cradling her cheek at the outburst, Nick’s words from the previous day still fresh in his mind.

“You’re alright, Nora.” He whispered, brushing her hair behind her ear carefully as not to wake her. “You’re safe.”

At the words, she immediately relaxed against his hand, reaching up to grasp his wrist with a sigh. Even in spite of Hancock’s warning that Nora was especially sensitive to contact, he couldn’t deny the feeling of peace that settled over his mind that she appeared to still find solace in his presence.

Despite the fact that he was the biggest fool since prehistoric times, her instinct was to lean into him, and the realization inspired a wave of optimism to crash over his worries.

“C’mere.” Nora mumbled, pulling at his arm as she scooted back on the mattress, allowing him room to lay down. “I’m not asking you, Danse.”

“Okay.” He agreed immediately, settling down on the bed next to her, dropping his hand to his side, instantly missing the feel of her soft skin against the worn, calloused texture of his palm.

Without warning, she moved her body against his, curling against his chest with a surprisingly content hum. Of all the thing he expected when seeing her again after the events at the airport, having her cuddle against his chest without question was no where in the realm of possibilities. Danse draped his arm over her shoulders, rubbing gentle circles against the jut of her shoulder blades as she relaxed, slowly releasing the tension from the muscles of her back and placing her head against the crook of his neck.

“I don’t know why you’re here... I’m still pissed the fuck off...” She offered, the bite in her tone displaying only a fraction of her fury. “You _promised_ -”

“I _know_... I did...” He started, a slight waver in his voice that was both mortifying and raw. “I can’t begin to express how sorry I am for what transpired at the airport... I- I acted on impulse as a commanding officer, and not as your...” Danse cleared his throat, barely swallowing down the lump that had crept up as he continued. “I did not consider your thoughts or feelings on the matter in the least... I have spent the better part of two days replaying the incident over in my mind, considering a thousand things I could have said or done that would have been preferable to what I had actually expressed -”

“Like _what_.” Nora challenged, the clear indication of defiance in her words, despite how she pressed herself closer against him.

“I - I should have went to you when you appeared on the platform. I should have pulled you into my arms.” Danse let out a slow breath before continuing, burying his face in her hair as he closed his eyes. “I should have stood up for you and defended you to Maxson. I just... This is all so new to me, and I - I don’t even know how to act around you. But I _want_ to. You deserve that... I know I made a mistake, but if you give me the chance, I will do everything in my power to make it up to you. I’m truly sorry... Nora, you mean more to me than the Brotherhood ever could... _Please_ believe that.”

“Okay ... I do.” She agreed, wrapping her arm around his neck and pressing her forehead softly against his own. “I forgive you.”

“You - You do?” He blurted, unable to keep the shock from his words, leaning away from her to scan her face, trying desperately to read her expression behind her closed eyes. “Why?”

“Because... Yeah, you fucked up, but, you made it right... You’re here, and I...” Nora bit out a sad laugh that sounded far more like a cry, burying her head back against his chest. “I miss you, And ... And I _need_ you, Danse, like I need the air in my lungs, and I... I forgive you.”

“I... I need you too.” Danse whispered, as he absentmindedly ran his hand through her hair, allowing himself a few, long moments to enjoy the feel of her body pressed against his own. “Are you-”

“ _Okay?_ ” At the question, a panicked gasp broke past her lips, hot angry tears racing down her face as she blinked up, meeting his eyes with a start.. “No, I’m not... Not even a little bit.”

He carefully ran his hand back over her shoulders, pressing his lips briefly against her forehead before answering. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He could feel Nora nod against his chest, the shaky, uncertainty of her breath rattling his rib cage for numerous heavy minutes before she spoke. “Yes... I just. I don’t know how, or where to even begin.”

“You don’t have to discuss anything until you’re ready to do so.” He reassured, dropping his hand to the curve of her waist and wrapping his arm around her, not wanting to so much as give her the chance to move away from him. Not that he would stop her, if she actually wanted to, but the idea of her leaving struck a vein of terror through his chest.

“I want to...” She insisted, her voice soft and hopeless as she cleared her throat. Danse could feel her warm tears against the fabric of his shirt; it was a realization that gutted him in a way he had never experienced before. As if he could literally feel the pain of her heartbreak, even before she elaborated. “I found Shaun... Except he’s not the little boy I... I thought that it had been ten years, but come to find out, it was sixty. _Sixty years_ , Danse...” At the admittance, her voice cracked further, half broken up by agonizingly muted cries as she continued. “M- My little, sweet baby boy is sixty years old and it just - I can’t even begin to ... But that’s not all, not by a long shot. It gets worse... Fuck, it gets so much worse.”

_What could possibly be worse than that?_

“I’m sorry, Nora... I’m so sorry.” Danse whispered, pressing another kiss to top of her head as she carefully tried to recompose herself, taking several slow breathes in and out.

“He doesn’t just live in the Institute ... He runs it.” Nora confessed, letting out a panicked laugh at the words the quickly turned into a sobs.

“I-” As the words began to register, he felt his stomach drop. It was cruel and down right tragic that Shaun would be tasked with the responsibility of the organization which had ruined both of his parent’s lives in an instant. “ _What?_ ”

“Yeah, you heard that right. My son, who is sixty years old, is in charge of the very organization that kidnapped him....” She bit, the wave of fury behind her tears rising to the surface as she spoke. “The very people who killed Nate... And he doesn’t even care. He’s so, _so_ fucking heartless. His my son and I love him, but I can’t stand to be around him.” The echo of her hysterical, weak laugh shook him to his soul as he gently ran his hand through her hair, relieved that it seemed to sooth her, even if it was only just. “I’m a shit mother... I’m even worse than my own parents, he’s probably better off -”

“Stop.” He blurted, quickly pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “ _No one_ is better off for not having known you.”

At the assurance, Nora let out a bitter scoff, firmly shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people who would disagree.”

“They would be wrong.” Danse insisted, leaning back to meet her eyes, running his thumb over the trail of tears down her cheek. “You enrich the lives of everyone you meet... The things that you do for people. You go above and beyond any perceived sense of responsibility not just to protect people, but to make sure they’re happy... You’re a good person, Nora.”

“Then I guess I have you fooled too.” She muttered, half to herself as she brought her hand up to hold his wrist with a sigh. “I don’t know why you deal with my bullshit... I - I keep running and _leaving_ -”

“And I will always tear this world apart to find you.” He promised, watching as the last piece of her carefully constructed mask dropped away at the words, revealing the full brunt of her agonizing hurt.

“Jesus, Danse... Who knew you were the romantic sort.” She offered sadly, the faint pull of a sardonic smirk at her lips.

“I suppose that when I’m with you it simply feels like second nature.” The answer was genuine, he knew. From the very first moment that had met back in Cambridge months before, he trusted her with his own life on instinct, a fact which proved to be completely valid time and time again. Even with Maxson, he had lied to protect her without a second thought, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m sorry...” Nora mumbled, scanning his face nervously as she elaborated, appearing to notice his sudden confusion. “About what happened with Maxson. I just go tso mad and everyone was staring at me as if I were some fragile _fucking_ flower. And I ... I lost it.”

“I - I don’t care.” Danse responded immediately, noting the wide, shocked expression that the statement inspired. “I don’t care that you were insubordinate to Maxson... I don’t _care_ that you blatantly disregarded every ounce of training you were imparted with. I ... I only care that you’re alive, and that you’re _here._ ”

“Do you really mean that?” She pressed, a hint of defiance in the vulnerable tone.

“Yes. More than anything in my life.” He promised, pressing his forehead back against hers with a sigh.

At the contact, she leaned forward, hesitating only momentarily before carefully pressing her lips against his own. Danse moved to cup her cheek, returning the kiss slowly, allowing her to lead at her own pace. Nora quickly deepened the kiss, letting out a happy hum as he ran his fingers back through her hair, mirroring her intensity.

“I... I want feel better.” She breathed, moving to place a tender kiss against the sensitive skin under the jut his jaw and moving her hips forward, pressing herself firmly against him as she dropped her hand to his lower back.

“How?” He pressed, trying to ignore the growing desire pooling in his groin at her unspoken implication.

Answering the question, she pushed him back, carefully resting her legs against the outside of his hips and settling gently against him as she straddled him. She placed a brief kiss against his neck as she arched toward him, capturing his lips for a few blessedly long seconds before angling back to meet his eyes once more, her voice almost a plea. “Please ... Please make me feel better.”

“Are you ... Are quite you sure?” Danse inquired, not wanting to take advantage of her fragile emotional state, but still wanting to please her all the same. “You’re fairly upset -”

“ _Danse._ ” Nora let out a quick breath, leaning back substantially before speaking as she scanned his face nervously. “Shit ... I’m sorry, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I’m just -”

“I _do_. I guarantee you, Nora, I really, _truly_ do...” He reassured, dropping his hand to squeeze her waist with a sigh. Every reflex was telling him to pull her back to him, to kiss her and bury himself inside her without a care in the world, but he couldn’t let himself fall prey to those instincts, not when she had already been through so much in the past week. He needed to be sure. “You’ve had quite a lot thrown at you the past few days and ... I only want to make sure that you’re doing this because you want to and you know that I don’t expect -”

“I _want_ to. You’re ... You’re the only thing that feels real any more. And ... You mean the world to me ...” She cleared her throat, looking away for a short moment before meeting his eyes once more. “You’re my world, Danse. And I - I just want to feel you.”

“I - Okay.” He agreed, the feeling that her words inspired both foreign and familiar, leaving him speechless, as he carefully slipped his hand under her tank top, feeling the warmth of her skin while she pressed her lips back against his, kissing him almost desperately as she pushed herself flush against him.

Almost instantly, Nora let him pull her shirt up and over her head, exposing her bare chest as she immediately tugged his own shirt away, tossing it somewhere that he couldn’t quite care to keep track of in the moment.

He traced his hands back up her sides, stopping to massage her breasts and enjoy the hum of pleasure that he elicited from her as he pressed his thumb against the bud of her nipple. As he moved to kiss along the length of her collarbone, he could hear her breath hitch in her throat as he began sucking on the delicate skin there, mirroring what he had felt her do in his quarters the previous week.

“Off.” She demanded with a breathy waver in her voice, already moving to undo the button of his pant as she spoke.

Danse obliged, pulling the offending fabric off and dropping it off the side of the bed, pulling her mouth back toward his own as she rolled her hips against his groin. At the motion he silently tugged at the flimsy fabric of her own pants, slipping it passed her knees with ease.

As soon as he saw her exposed sex, he reached forward, slowly parting her folds and pushing a finger inside of her, relieved at her pleased gasps as he moved his fingers, stroking the walls of her heat.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered, trying his best to ignore the mounting tension in his own member as he pressed the digit further inside of her with a faint, content smile. It was magical, to watch the effect he apparently seemed to have on her. “You’re beautiful Nora, and not just because of how you look.”

“Nowhere near as gorgeous as you are -” As soon as he pressed a second finger into her, she arched against his hand, letting out a small gasp and pressing herself down on his fingers with a pleased sigh. “Show me how much you want me, Danse ... _please_. I want to feel you.”

There wasn’t a thing in the world that could convince him to deny her a single thing when she was sitting on top of him, stark naked and begging him to take her. He tried to find the words to articulate how much she meant to him, how much he wanted every part of her, both mind and soul, but he couldn’t string together a single sentence that would do justice to the feeling in his chest.

Instead, Danse angled back, pushing his boxers down and off his legs and freeing his erection that was almost painfully hard as it pressed against his abdomen. If there was one thing he could do, it was make her feel better, just as she had requested.

Before he so much as had a chance to confirm her desire, Nora brushed her heat against the head of his member, taking a long breath as she met his eyes, checking for his assent. At the motion, he gripped the base of his erection and angled it toward her sex, slowly pushing into her, taking care to enter as gradually as possible, so as not to hurt her.

“I forgot that you’re so...” She breathed with a faint laugh, stilling at the motion as she slowly inched herself down on him. “Well off.”

“Is that... A bad thing?” He offered, fighting the overwhelming urge to sheath himself fully inside of her at the sudden warmth.

“God, no. I told you, it’s... Very good.” Nora promised, sinking down to take his full length with a loud, unashamed moan that inspired a sense of proud confidence in his chest as he began to thrust inside her, the sounds of her breaths encouraging each movement. “ _Yes._ Just like that, baby. Oh - _Danse_.”

The words were like honey, tempting and so sweet as he moved, the feeling incomparable.

“You don’t have to be so gentle, you know. _Please._ ” She begged, placing her head in the crook of his neck only briefly before looking up to meet his eyes. At his surprised expression, she let out a short breath as she elaborated, a faint smirk pulling at her lips. “I only mean that you _can_ get more forceful with me... You know, _i_ _f_ you want.”

And by the Creator did he want to. “ _Yes._ ”

“Yeah?” She asked, looking briefly confused by his answer before recomposing her expression, running her hand down his chest, the warmth of her breath tickling his neck as she spoke. “Just to be clear, you’re ... God you always feel so amazing. I just mean... I promise, you won’t break me, Danse.”

“I... I believe you.” At the invitation, Danse immediately gripped her hips, thrusting inside of her much more confidently, allowing her happy grunts and gasps to fill the room, committing the almost magical sounds to memory as he moved against her.

A part of him was almost worried that he would actually leave bruises on her hips, but with Nora being the eager participant that she was as she rolled her hips forward with each motion, he was certain that she wouldn’t care.

_She would probably find it amusing... Or erotic... Or probably both, knowing her._

“Holy _fuck._ ” Nora breathed, burying her hand in his hair as she tightened her other grip on his arm, arching against him. “Yes, baby, that’s good. You feel so fucking good-”

He quickly pressed his lips back to her own, kissing her with a desperate hunger he didn’t bother to temper as he rutted into her with an almost reckless abandon, cherishing every noise that fell from her lips pulling her even closer still, her chest flush against his own. He buried himself almost incomprehensibly deeper inside her, relishing the sound of her excited moans.

The sound, coupled by the echo of skin against skin was the only noise in the room as he pressed back into her, taking an abrupt breath as he felt her still briefly, the walls of her sex tightening around him. He watched her face contort into sudden bliss as she moved against him, riding out the spasms of her orgasm, and he was absolutely certain that there was no better feeling in the world.

Danse reached forwarded, bringing her into a slow kiss, grasping the back of her ass as he pulled her hips firmly against his own, thrusting into her greedily. It didn’t make sense, that someone as stunning as Nora could want him, that she would give all of her so freely to him, seemingly without a second thought.

But he was selfish, unable to resist the woman who was far too good far him, and he knew that he was more that happy to give her anything and everything she could ever ask of him. Nora wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss with a soft moan as she rolled her hips forward.

“I want you to enjoy this as much as I do.” She whispered, matching his every motion.

“I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about in that regard.” He promised, reaching up to caress the side of her face, burying his fingers in her hairs as he met her eyes. “This is... _perfect._ ”

At his words, her expression softened into one of peace, a blissful smile teasing her lips.

“Okay.” She whispered, arching her body toward his chest as she pulled him back into a kiss, moving against him steadily as he continued to push into her, eliciting the most mesmerizing of happy moans.

Danse could feel the mounting tension in his groin growing with every motion, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “I believe I’m fairly close... Is it alright -”

“God yes. You don’t even have to ask, Danse.” She breathed, her voice hitching as he gripped the curve of her hip, thrusting into her intently. “I’m yours, baby ... All yours.”

A small, almost imperceptible part of his brain was warning him to be more cautious, that being so reckless with their intimacy was inherently risky, but the voice was rapidly dispersed as he felt Nora tense around him once more, letting out a surprised gasp as he pulled her back into a tender kiss.

He could feel his erection spasm, the last hint of warning before he spilled inside of her, earning a happy hum against his lips at the sudden warmth between them. Danse ceased his movements, pulling out of her and leaning back to meet her eyes as he tried to slow his racing heart rate from the exertion.

“Well ... That’s certainly better than a training exercise.” He offered wryly, earning a soft laugh from her as she pressed a quick kiss back against his lips.

“Well, I would certainly hope so.” She countered, moving to curl against his chest with a content sigh and intently scanning his face for several moments. At the quirk of his eyebrow in question, she quickly cleared her throat before explaining. “You make me happy. Like... Really, _truly_ happy... I am so glad I met you, Danse...”

“I... I know the feeling.” He admitted, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat as he draped his arm over her waist, pulling her closer. “Meeting you has made me... I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I - I can’t ever go back to being alone again.”

“You don’t have to.” Nora offered sincerely, an amused smirk teasing at her lips as she continued. “I’m afraid you're stuck with me now, my dear.”

The words inspired a feeling of absolute adoration in his chest as he entertained the fanciful idea of being with her for the rest of his life. Danse figured she would come to her senses sooner or later, realizing that he was just an ordinary man that couldn’t hold a candle to her absolute radiance, but until that day, he was more than happy to lay with her in his arms. “I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

At the comment, she let out a stubborn scoff, rolling her eyes playfully as she rested her head back against his chest. “Lucky for me that you think so ... Danse?”

“Yes?” He answered, the slight apprehension in her tone immediately alarming him.

“Thank you for always coming to find me... I can’t promise that I’ll never run.” Nora bit out a sad laugh, wrapping her arm lazily around his waist and rubbing irregular patterns into the small of his back with her fingers. “Shit, that’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done. But ... I promise you, I will always come back to you.”

_Oh_.

Danse was certain the his chest might explode at her vow, the adoration he felt for her almost dangerous as it immediately became the sole motivator to his existence. “And I will never stop looking.”

She offered a luminous smile at his words, relaxing against him with a sigh, and he knew beyond any hint of doubt, that there was no better feeling in all the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh/// This is over 600 pages and has over 2000 hits. Im floored. I started this two months ago. You are all awesome. I love every comment kudo etc!
> 
> To the silent fans who don't comment... 1. I love you. 2. You don't have to be scared to comment, if you want.
> 
> Jeez give these two a condom amirite... Guess it's good synths cant reproduce eh


	43. Let's Go Sunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruh I be sad.
> 
> Family dynamic
> 
> idk.
> 
> its all fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: It's super unrealistic that the Sole Survivor would be promoted so quicke
> 
> Also me: Promoted twice in 2 week

For the first time since discovering the heartbreaking truth hidden within the Institute, Nora felt something besides absolute dread as she awoke. She could feel the even pattern of Danse’s breaths against the back of her neck, his arm placed firmly over her waist as he slept peacefully behind her. It was strange, in a way, that as hopeless as she had felt only days prior, that the hole in her heart could be replaced with such hope for better things to come.

There were still a million feelings she still had to sort through and plans she had to make, but at least she knew that she wouldn’t have to do it alone. Because Danse was there, naively pledging his loyalty to her without so much as a second thought.

A part of her wanted to feel guilty, ashamed that she had moved on so quickly from the loss of the man she had once thought she would spend eternity with, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t feel anything other than peace at the realization that she had fallen so wholly and completely for someone else.

She thought of Nick’s words almost a month before, turning the concept over in her mind. Where her old friend had suggested that her brain had processed the trauma of Nate’s death over the decade she had believed to have passed, it only validated the theory further, given the shocking news that it was actually _sixty_ years.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t still love her husband, she did, but she had come to realize that while she loved Nate with all of her being, she loved Danse just as much, if not even more so. Because he had been there to pick up the scattered pieces of what remained of who she once was. There were times where she could go all day without thinking of Nate, allowing herself the feigned ignorance of embracing the cruel, unforgiving culture of the wasteland, but as much as Danse was part of her new reality, he also reminded her of the person she used to be. When she was good, and kind, and compassionate. Nora knew without a single fragment of doubt in her mind that she was able to retain her humanity because of how he perceived her, continually supporting and urging her toward a strange sense of morality in the new world.

She was happy, despite all she had been through, in the face of absolutely tragedy that would undoubtedly only worsen in the coming months as she confronted the Institute.

As much as she loved her son, and she _did_ , with all of her heart, the decision on how to deal with the Institute had become painfully clear, even through the fog of her drunken stupor of the past few days. She could feel Danse start to shift behind her, pulling her hips back toward him firmly as he buried his head in the crook of her neck with a happy exhale of breath.

“Why are you awake at such an ungodly hour?” He mumbled, nestling against her collarbone as he spoke.

“Why are _you_?” She accused, a nervous, excitement brewing in her stomach at the very sensation of having him pressed against her back. It was as if she was a school girl again, a teenager, feeling mortifyingly anxious in front of her crush, but as he placed a soft kiss against her jaw, she could feel herself relax, letting out a content sigh at the contact.

“Mmm. You were moving.” Danse answered with an almost imperceptible hint of amusement in his tone at the sleepy accusation.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Nora challenge, turning to face him with a quirk of her eyebrow. She met his eyes as he slowly blinked awake, wincing against the ambient light of the dwindling lanterns.

“Quite possibly.” He breathed, reaching to her waist as he pressed himself back against her, pressing his lips against her own. The eager, newfound confidence he kissed her with was intoxicating, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, arching toward him.

Before she could think of a sarcastic, playful response, the sound of the door slamming against the wall made them both jump, Danse instantly pulling her toward him and reaching for his discarded rifle propped against the nightstand as they turned to confront the intruder.

“Jeez, kitten. I gave you the room to feel your feelings, not to fuck the pretty soldier boy... You owe me some clean sheets, at the very least -” Hancock offered with a dry, gravely laugh as he apparently noticed their state of nudity, the sheet over their bodies barely shielding them from view.

“Fuck off, John.” She bit, both annoyed at the situation and thrilled by the way Danse tightened his arm around her protectively.

The ghoul let out a slow whistle, scanning Danse’s exposed chest as he spoke. “I would, really, but you’re in my bed and all and I don’t think you want a third -”

“Don’t pretend like you actually sleep here -” Nora objected, a strange surge of possessiveness rising in her chest at the fact that her friend had observed a single moment of their intimacy. It wasn’t his to see, it was _theirs._

“I implore you to have some semblance of decency to allow us a few moments to collect ourselves.” Danse ordered, his voice firm and direct at the instruction, not bothering to hide his disdain as he pressed her closer against him still. And by God if it wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing she had ever seen him do.

“So I’m taking that’s a ‘no’ to my offer to make this twosome a threesome.” Hancock quipped, waving his hand dramatically as he spun back toward the doorway. “Hey, don’t ever say I’m not charitable. I’m a giver, I promise -”

“ _John_.” She warned, a warm heat overtaking her cheeks at the ghoul’s taunts. “Don’t make me get up and kick your ass myself.”

At the words, he offered a quick laugh, shaking his head as he met her eyes. “You know, sunshine, I had a dream about that once -”

“Out.” Danse bit, his tone commanding and final as Hancock smirked, gently reaching to close the door behind him with a wink in their direction. He quickly let out an angry huff of air, turning to meet her eyes. “I believe that I like Mayor Hancock even less than that unscrupulous fellow Deacon you seem to -”

Before he could finish his statement, Nora pulled him back into a hungry kiss that he quickly reciprocated, running her fingers through his hair as she rolled her hips toward him.

“That was so fucking sexy, Danse.” She breathed, leaning back to catch his expression. The surprised look on his face at her words was worth more than gold and she let out a quick laugh before kissing him again, tracing her hand down the slope of his back.

Danse let out a slow breath as he leaned back, his hand resting firmly on her hip as he met her eyes. “I ... It was?”

“God yes. As if you couldn’t get even more perfect.” Nora answered, letting out a happy chuckle and running her thumb over the stubble on his cheek with a soft smile. A small part of her was terrified at the sentiment, always afraid that she would love too hard and share too much about her feelings toward him, but she couldn’t stop herself from elaborating. “And you are, you know... You’re perfect, my dear.”

“I believe that your pre-war definitions of the word and the current interpretation might have some discrepancies.” He quipped, the faintest of smug smirks pulling at his lips.

“Are you getting smart with me?” She accused, jutting her chin out defiantly, but unable to repress her amusement at the comment.

“It’s quite possible.” Danse answered, running a slow hand up the side of her waist. The movement was tender, only further emphasized by the fond way in which he watched her face.

“I’ve created a monster.” She teased, bringing him back into a hungry kiss as she traced her hand down his chest. “But I’m pretty sure that if we don’t get up now, John actually might try to crawl into bed with us.”

“That is certainly not a thought I’d prefer to entertain.” He answered with a grimace, his eyebrows drawn together as he pulled back to meet her eyes.

Nora let out a soft laugh at the concern in his expression, as if he actually believed that she would ‘entertain such a thought’. “Don’t worry handsome, I’m not interested in sharing you with _anyone._ ”

“Nor am I.” He admitted, his features instantly relaxing at her confirmation, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She was struck by the easy contentment that marked his eyes, her heart pounding against her chest as she traced her fingers over the long scar along the side of his face.

_Jesus, just fucking tell him how you feel, you idiot._

“Danse... I - ”

The sound of angry knocking echoing around the room interrupted them once more, and Nora was ready to murder whoever was on the other side of the door.

“Hey kitten, we really need to have a conversation about the sorts you keep draggin’ into my city.” Hancock bit, his usually flippant tone startlingly gone.

She barely managed to temper her anger, pulling on the sheet around her chest as she sat up. “Fucking hell, I’m going to throw you off the balcony with my own two hands, _John_ -”

“Mom?! Is that you?” The familiar voice called out, recognizable even through the thick, wooden door, and Nora could feel her heart drop to her stomach at the realization of exactly _who_ was looking for her.

She could feel Danse go instantly still next to her, but even as she kept her eyes glued to the door, his confused stare was burning a hole in the side of her face.

“Shit.” Nora breathed, mumbling the curse half under her breath, closing her eyes slowly. Of all the things she still had to tell Danse about her trip into the Institute, S9-23 was not even close to being near the top of the list. It wasn’t like she _wasn’t_ going to tell him, but she was well aware about his feelings regarding synths, and didn’t foresee the conversation going particularly well. “Danse, babe, I need you to keep an open mind here - ”

“I _thought_ that you said - ” He pressed, his words short and clipped as he clearly was trying to make sense of the situation.

“Yeah, I did.” She muttered, running a frustrated hand over her face, trying to compose a string of coherent justifications for what was about to come to light. There was no easy way to say ‘I promised to be the maternal figure to a synthetic clone of my elderly son’, after all.

The sound of the handle being turned drew their attention back to the door, a wide-eyes S9 rushing through the entryway and immediately making his way to the bed, pausing just at the foot with an introspective frown. “Why are you naked? Are you two having ‘adult time’?”

“I - No. Just...” Nora let out a quick cough, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising to her cheeks at being caught ‘in the act’ by the child who was an identical replica of Shaun, tightening the sheet further around her chest, relieved that it covered her sufficiently. “Mind your business. What are you doing here?”

“You said you were going to come back and then you didn’t. And then Doctor Li left learlier tonight too, right after dinner, so I figured I’d come find you.” S9 rolled his eyes, moving to sit on the side of bed next to her, resting his head against her shoulder with a sigh. On instinct, she brought her hand up to squeeze his shoulder, her free hand still clutching the sheet around her as she ignored the flummoxed expression on Danse’s face. It would have been downright hilarious in frankly, literally _any_ other situation. “I’m pretty smart to track you down all the way out here, huh?”

“Of course you are, sweetie...” She reassured, unable to stymie the sense of pride in her chest at his resourcefulness. “And how did you find me, exactly?”

“It was so easy! I tracked you using the signal from your PipBoy.” He boasted excitedly, his words rushing together as he spoke. “I know you always had it on while you were at the Institute, and I figured you would still be wearing it.”

“That is pretty smart, kiddo.” She agreed, eyeing the PipBoy on the nightstand apprehensively.

S9 seemed to notice her expression, his happy face instantly falling as he leaned back, anxiously scanning her face. “Are - Are you mad at me? You didn’t come back... And you said something bad was going to happen... I was worried.”

“No, of course I’m not mad at you.” Nora promised, pulling him back toward her firmly as reassurance. “I just had to take care of a few things things. But I _do_ think I told you to stay out of trouble... Clearly, you didn’t listen.”

S9 shrugged, ignoring the topic and looking around her shoulder at Danse who’s face had turned back into one of neutral composition that she new masked a sea of emotion beneath. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”

“I - What did I tell you about minding your business?” Nora quickly interjected, unsure of how exactly to answer that particular question.

“That usually means yes.” S9 answered smugly, looking up at her with an expression of defiance.

“S9, I swear to Christ -” She chastised, trying to fight the amused smirk from her face at his pleased expression.

“S9?” Danse finally stated, his eyebrows drawn together for a few brief seconds before his eyes went wide, his words cool as he spoke, the evenness of his tone marked with a strong indication of disapproval.“Surely, you don’t mean that -”

“ _Danse._ ” She warned, meeting his eyes with a glare colder than the entire stock of cryostasis in Vault 111. “We can discuss this later...”

“Discuss what?” S9 interrupted, shifting next to her.

“Nothing, sweetie.” At his skeptical expression, she instantly elaborated. _Jesus this kid is perceptive as fuck_. “Well, nothing that you need to worry about ... Can you actually do me a _huge_ favor and hang out with Mayor Hancock for a few minutes while I get dressed?”

“ _Fine_.” He agreed, moving to stand and offering a quick wave back to Danse as he headed to the door. “It was nice to meet you Mr. Danse!”

Much to her relief, Danse nodded toward S9, his voice notably pinched as he spoke. “And you as well.”

The sound of the latch reengaging as the door closed was the last identifiable noise for several moments, the uncomfortable tension between them mounting with every passing second. She didn’t know where to even begin, and closed her eyes, leaning forward to bury her head in her hands. Every instinct was telling her to grab S9 and run, not wanting to be forced to endure the coming conversation, except that she had _promised_ Danse that he wouldn’t have to be alone again, just the previous night, if he would even still have her after she dropped the coming bombshell.

“Please tell me that this is not what I think it is.” He started, letting out a frustrated scoff as he grasped her arm, slowly pulling her hands down to meet her eyes, his expression falling as he saw her face. “ _Nora_... He’s not... That’s not Shaun.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that? I do.” She snapped, the pang of sadness in her heart aching down to her rib cage as she continued. “Except that... he sort of _is._ ”

Danse scanned her face intently, as if trying to read the her feelings on the matter before carefully answering.“I - I don’t understand.”

Nora let out a slow sigh and looked down, nervously picking at the lint on the sheet as she spoke. “The Institute kidnapped Shaun sixty years ago because they needed... I don’t know, a clean genetic code that wasn’t damaged by radiation, or some shit for their experiments with creating the synths. So, they found that Vault 111 had an infant... And when that infant actually happened to be General Smith’s grandson, they were damn-near fucking ecstatic, I guess... But S9... He’s actually a direct copy of Shaun’s DNA. They basically cloned my fucking son, with the specific purpose of seeing how I would respond to seeing him again after all these years. Which is.... Insanely fucked up, but not important right now... So, when I say S9 is kind of my son, it’s true. He bleeds and eats and thinks just like anyone else. He shares the same exact DNA as Shaun. As _me_... How... Would you have me lose him twice?”

“This is ... A lot to process. Please, give me a minute.” He offered, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

_Yeah, I know the feeling._

It was clear that he was actually taking the time to try and process the revelation before responding, which was a least a good sign that he was considering her words, but the gnawing sense of anxiety clawing at her intestines was growing with every passing second.

“So, are you saying that every synth that exists in creation is a direct descendant from... You?” He inquired, letting out a slow breath of air at the question.

Nora almost laughed at the thought, slightly relieved that he also shared her initial concern. “Oh god, hell no. That would be... terrifying. That was my first question too. I guess the Institute was just trying to find a specific segment of human genetic code that was too corrupted by radiation to decipher, specifically in stem cells, which are more common in really young children... They can get them from adults, but the process is a bit more complicated, according to the Institute scientists. That’s why they needed an infant who had never been subjected to any sort of radiation damage... It was basically like a blueprint. Once they saw what they needed, they replicated it independently...” She quickly swallowed, looking back to the door cautiously before speaking once more. “S9 though... He is an exact replica of Shaun. He’s identical, down to the genome, and he actually _wants_ me to be his mom. He tracked me down all the way out here and... I’m sorry, Danse, but please don’t make me turn him away.”

_Because I would, for you. I’d give up everything for you my love, so please don’t ask me to... I would hate myself every day for it, but I’d do it..._

“I ... I _won’t_... But I need to make sure the gravity of this situation is abundantly clear.” Danse warned, reaching to intertwined his fingers with hers as he elaborated.  
”You are aware that if Elder Maxson were to ever find out about this, all three of us would be executed on the spot, correct?”

The blunt analysis of the severity of the matter cut through her soul like a blade, desiccating any hope that they would make it out alive, should Maxson become privy to their treason. No amount of charm of debate would would save them.

She couldn’t let him go down with her, by God, she couldn’t loose him too. “I know that you have this notion that your fate is intertwined with mine, Danse, but you don’t have to subject yourself to whatever punishment I inevitably have coming my way -”

“Stop, _please...”_ He breathed, firmly wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back toward him with his free hand. _“_ Do you recall what you said to me the very first time we met?”

“Probably something sarcastic?” She offered, hoping to add a bit of levity to the harsh reality of their situation.

At the joke, he offered a quick breath, the fainted hint of a laugh hanging to his tone like smoke. “Well... Yes, that is also true, but I was referring to something you mentioned before our Arc Jet mission. You told me that your word was your bond... I must admit that phrase has stuck with me ever since... So believe me when I tell you that _my_ word is my bond, and as long as you want me by your side, I will be there. My loyalty is to you, Nora ... And to S9, so it would seem.”

_This isn’t real. There’s no way he’s truly implying... No, he’s just being chivalrous with such a grandiose statement..._

“Do you - Do you have any _idea_ what you’re agreeing to here, Danse?” She challenged, her voice wavering at the question.

“I have some indication, yes.” He assured, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek and pulling her into a slow kiss that she was sure could soften the hearts of the most heinous of souls. As he pulled away far too soon for her liking, she met his gaze, her own eyes damp with relieved tears. “I know that I don’t have any significant experience with relationships or such intimacy like this, but I am well aware of what this would mean... I will admit, I am not particularly _comfortable_ with the situation. To be blunt, I don’t trust that the circumstances of S9’s arrival are truly benevolent but... I know how important this is to you, and I am willing to give the situation ... _your child_ a chance.”

At his words, she went suddenly still, her brain racing to catch up with the fact that Paladin fucking Danse of all people was literally vowing to protect the life of a synth at a great personal risk to himself... _For her_. She couldn’t imagine the tumultuous feelings warring inside his head, the promise of his vow to her inevitably battling his years of training and service to the Brotherhood. Danse had actually called S9 a _child_ , instead of a machine, which was more amicability than she had even hoped for.

Seeming to notice her worried expression, he wiped away the trail of shocked tears from her cheeks with a tender softness in his eyes as he continued. “That being said, I do believe that if we don’t get out of bed now, we will have two very irate visitors in the next few minutes.”

Nora sat for several moments just staring at him, her ragged breaths scraping against her throat as she tried to control the flood of emotion drowning any semblance of coherent words at the absolute adoration she felt for him. Speechless was too subtle of a word to describe how she felt, the term inherently implying that she had nothing to say, which was quite the opposite. She had a trillion things she wanted to tell him, each statement fighting for dominance as she opened her mouth, none of the options ultimately winning out. All the words in all the languages in all of history couldn’t possible vocalize the love she had for him, so instead she stayed silent, pulling him into an embrace so tight she was almost afraid it would hurt him, or her, or both of them all in one. She held him pressed against her for so long her arms started to go numb and she finally released him, regretfully pulling away.

“Thank you.” Was all she could muster, her throat drier than the Sahara desert as she tried to compose herself.

“You don’t have to thank me for... for caring about you, Nora.” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to her temple with a soft smile.

“It’s horrible work, you know.” She quipped, relieved by the twitch of amusement in his jaw at the comment.

“I don’t think that’s possible. Not so long as you’re by my side.” Danse urged, reaching up to push her hair behind her ears with an expression so fond it almost decimated her soul on sight.

“You;re an incurable romantic, Danse.” Nora accused, grasping his hand and placing a kiss against the tender skin of his wrist with a sigh. “Come on, let’s make sure John hasn’t given S9 a jet addiction yet.”

“It _would_ be wise to intervene prior to such a point.” He agreed, releasing her and dropping his arm back to his side.

Fortunately, finding their discarded clothing was easy work, the majority of the articles having been tossed just off the bed. Just as she finished pulling her shirt back over her head and grabbed an extra flannel from her bag, she felt Danse behind her, pulling her back toward him and placing a soft kiss against the side of her neck.

“Mm. What’s that for?” She mumbled, relaxing her back against him with a smile.

“You look radiant.” Danse answered, squeezing her hip briefly as she turned back to look at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in desperate need of a shower, but thank you, my dear. You’re pretty handsome yourself.” She paused momentarily before leaning up to whisper in his ear, her voice low and heavy. “I should warn you though, if you keep kissing my neck like that, we will never make it out of this room.” At the words, Danse let out a quick cough, turning an almost alarming shade of crimson as she stepped back with a self-assured smile, nodding toward the door. “C’mon. They’ve been quiet far too long for my liking.”

The sight that greeted them as they reemerged into the parlor turned living room was just about the last thing she had expected, stopping immediately short of doorway, Danse almost colliding with her back at her sudden lack of movement.

“I ... Did not foresee this particular scene.” He offered carefully, his eyes transfixed on the wooden chessboard on the table, Hancock and S9 sitting opposite from each other, both of their expressions drawn down in thought. S9 cautiously moved a piece forward, looking up toward Hancock in question, who only answered with a silent nod.

“You and me both.” Nora quipped, drawing the attention of the pair, S9 jumping up excitedly and running to throw his arms around her waist, almost knocking her back into Danse by the sheer force of the movement.

“Mom! Mayor Hancock was just showing me how to play chess, isn’t that so awesome? Father said people out here were mean and evil, but so far everyone has been really nice. And I really liked the lady with the half-shaved hair out front. She’s super cool!” S9 rambled, half bouncing up and down as he spoke, shooting her a wide grin that melted her heart in an instant.

It was Nate’s smile.

“Are you... Talking about _Fahrenheit_?” She cautioned as she placed her arm protectively around his shoulders, looking up to Hancock who had lazily moved to stand, stretching his neck dramatically. The other woman wasn’t exactly the sort she’d call personable, and the thought that he had taken to her, of all people, was almost laughable.

“Hey, kitten, it would seem that your kid inherited all of your charisma and has been making friends left and right in the _beautiful_ city of Goodneighbor.” Hancock answered with smug smirk, rustling the tin of Mentats in his coat, but much to her relief, not actually removing them. She didn’t particularly want to have the ‘drugs are bad, okay’ conversation in the early hours of the morning. “His words, not mine, though I can’t say I disagree.”

“Oh dear God ... Like _who_ , exactly has he been making friends with?” As much as she didn’t want to ask, she needed to know what level of damage control she would have to do, at the very least, to protect S9’s true identity. It wouldn’t do very well to have him introducing himself to half the Commonwealth as a child synth.

“As best as I can tell, Daisy, Kent, Fahrenheit and even KLEO.” At her horrified expression, Hancock quickly elaborated with a short chuckle. “Don’t worry, he didn’t into too much trouble.”

“I find that incredibly hard to believe.” Danse muttered behind her, with an almost silent scoff.

Nora looked down at S9 sternly, watching him still under her gaze. “We are going to have to have a conversation about you running off on your own. I know you’re incredibly smart, but it is unspeakably dangerous out here. And running away when you’re scared or upset is _not_ the appropriate response to things, okay?”

“No, it certainly isn’t.” Danse interjected dryly, inspiring a sudden, amused laugh from Hancock who stood looking between the three of them.

At the comment, she turned, meeting Danse’s eyes immediately. “Oh, you think you’re a comedian now, huh?”

“I mean, he does have a point here.” Hancock defended, much to her irritation. Of all the things for the two men to agree upon it was how she mismanaged the situation after returning from the Institute, drowning her feelings in self pity and booze for three days.

“This... This little partnership you two have going, where you both gang up on me? I don’t like this shit at all.” She complained, eliciting a giddy laugh from S9 who looked up at her.

“I forgot that you say bad words. Can I -” He started, the request immediately denied by Danse.

“Absolutely not.” At her shocked expression, Danse froze, his eyes going wide with alarm. “I apologize, it’s not my place -”

“It’s fine, Danse. It’s... Absolutely, totally fine.” Nora cleared her throat, the back of her neck feeling insanely warm at the way that he had interjected so confidently to instruct S9.

“Ah, so _that’s_ what you’re in to.” Hancock teased as he noticed the blush spreading across her face, earning a glower from Danse that could freeze Hell as she went almost painfully red, every inch of her body feeling hot as the prickle of embarrassment overtook her skin. “Hey, who am I to judge? Everyone likes a man with a bit of authority-”

“I hardly think this conversation is appropriate for all present.” Danse commanded, the fact that he was seeming to want to protect S9 only amplifying the heat still growing in her cheeks.

“Are you guys talking about sex?” S9 inquired with a frown, wrinkling up his nose at the question.

_Sweet baby Jesus kill me now._

“Constantly.” Hancock interjected, raising his hands in defeat at the glare both she and Danse shot him simultaneously. “Okay, I’m done taunting you two... Well, for now at least. Mainly just cause I like the kid and don’t want to subject him to thinking about his mom getting, er, you know. _The business_.”

“John, I swear to all that is holy, _I’m_ the one that’s going to go feral if you don’t stop.” She warned with a frustrated huff of air, running her free hand down her face in mortification.

“Hey hey, save all that for your lover-boy-” Before he could finish speaking, Nora reached down to the table to lob a chess piece at him, hitting him square in the forehead. “Ow - fu - shit! Got it, sunshine ... Message received. How about we all settle down and you tell me how the hell the Institute is making child synths now?”

It felt as if the floor had fallen out from under her, and she tightened her arm around S9’s shoulders, pulling him close against her. She knew that Hancock wouldn’t harbor any ill will toward him. Hell, the ghoul allowed the Railroad to operate out of the Memory Den without question, but the fact that anyone other than her and Danse knew the truth made her uneasy. “How did you know?”

“Jeez, sister. Give a ghoul a bit of credit here...” Hancock grumbled, still rubbing the inured area on his forehead as he moved to sprawl back out on the couch. “If it wasn’t for the alarming shade of his outfit, the fact that he introduced himself by his synth designation certainly didn’t help... Plus, if he was you know _who_ , then I don’t think I would have found you in the state you were in the other night.”

“Yeah well ... We haven’t had the synth conversation yet.” Nora muttered, looking down at S9 who was watching the exchange with wide eyes.

“Am I ... Am I not supposed to tell people that I’m a synth?” S9 asked nervously, his face falling at the question.

“It’s ... complicated, sweetie.” She rushed, running a quick hand through his hair in what she hoped could offer some maternal reassurance.

“Well, while I do love being in other people’s business, I’m gettin’ the inklin’ that I should let you three have your little family meeting... Though I got to say, it is certainly a story.” Hancock teased with an amused laugh, staring directly at Danse as he spoke, but making no attempt to get up off the couch. “A Brotherhood of Steel Paladin and pre-war Vaultsicle runnin’ around with a synth kid -”

“Hey John? D’ya want to stop being an asshole for like, five seconds?” She bit, unable to keep the cool anger out of her voice as she looked back nervously toward Danse, who’s face was painfully stoic. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was being so amicable to the arrangement, and she didn’t particularly want to discourage his support.

As if sensing her concern, Danse met her eyes, his expression softening as he reached forward to squeeze her shoulder before looking back toward Hancock. “As I’m sure you are more than capable of deducing, _that_ particular detail is not something that will be made public knowledge, lest it fall on less than benevolent ears... I am quite certain that I do not need to express the severity of such intel leaving the confines of this room and what lengths one might be willing to go to in order to protect such information.”

At the barely veiled threat, the corners of Hancock’s mouth pulled up smugly, cocking his head as he answered. “Message received, crew cut.”

S9 shifted nervously next to her, tightening his arms around her waist. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, Mom... Just please don’t send me back. I don’t - I don’t -” His sudden, shaky breath tore at her chest and she immediately knelt down next to him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Sweetie, I’m not sending you anywhere. We just have to be really careful about who we tell some things, okay? Not everyone... They won’t understand. Do you remember what I told you before I left?” She pressed, noting the scared tears in S9’s eyes as he buried his head against her shoulder. “I promised that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I mean it.”

“Because that’s what moms do?” He asked, quickly sniffling as he looked back up at her.

“Exactly, sweetheart.” Nora could feel the lump growing in her throat and quickly tried to swallow it down, rubbing her hand gently against his shoulders. “So, we have to pretend that you’re not a synth ... I’m so sorry that you have to hide a part of who you are, but we need to, so we can all stay safe.”

“Why - Why do people hate synths? Do they hate _me_?” S9 pressed, his voice small and terrified against the fabric of her shirt.

“ _No.”_ The answer was firm and unwavering, leaving no room for debate on the certainty of the answer. She was relieved that the tone portrayed more confidence than she felt, her heart aching at the fear in his voice. She and Nate had always known they would have to have a conversation about race, but she never imaged it would be regarding a race of synthetic humans. _Oh how the more things seem to change, the more they stay the same..._ “They just don’t know you. They don’t know how smart and funny or kind you are. There’s... There’s a lot of scary stories about the Institute, and when people are scared they... They can do bad things. Fear is a very powerful motivator, but there are still a lot of people who are on our side. I told you about that detective I’m friends with, right? He’s a synth too, and most people like him pretty well.”

“H-He is? Can I meet him?” S9 cautioned, a hint of mischievous excitement brewing in his tone.

“Of course you can.” She assured, leaning back to meet his eyes with a small smile. “I actually knew him a really long time ago, before he was a synth.”

“He used to be a human?” He gasped, his eyes going wide at the revelation as he straightened up excitedly.

“Yeah, he was. Nick was friends with me and your - uh.” Nora quickly cleared her throat, forcing a smile to her lips as she continued, moving to a stand as well. “We were friends back in the day... But I’ll let Detective Valentine tell you about all that. It’s not my story to share.”

S9’s offered a broad grin, looking toward the door and practically jumping up and down at the notion as he intertwined their hands together almost reflexively. “Can we go see him now? Does he live here too?”

“No, he lives in Diamond City... I actually think we might want to head there anyways. I have some... Some people I need to talk to in the city anyways.” Nora looked back to Danse in question, still waiting for the moment when he would inevitably change his mind, deciding that no matter what deluded sense of affection he felt for her wasn’t worth the weight of her baggage.

Instead, as if reading her thoughts, Danse offered her a soft, reassuring smile, reaching up to caress the side of her face and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I think it would be wise for us to head out before dawn ... From a strictly tactical perspective, there is a short window after sunrise before most monstrosities of the wasteland begin to stir.”

At his input, Hancock sat up, scanning the trio carefully before speaking. “If ya think you’re going to run around unnoticed with the kid dressed like that, you’re even dumber than you look, Danse.”

“I hardly think your advise is worth considering -” Danse started, glaring down at the smaller man with a silent fury.

“Hey, listen, I’m just tryin’ to look out for ya.” The ghoul retorted, nodded toward the staircase behind him. “There’s a lost and found down the stairs, plenty of kids clothes. Not like we have a lot of ‘em runnin’ around down here... And fortunately the kid is a bit, er, on the scrawny side.”

Before Danse could interject another comment at Hancock, Nora cleared her throat, squeezing S9’s hand gently before speaking. “Thank you, John. For everything you’ve done for us over the past few days. I really appreciate it... And uh, sorry for throwing the queen or whatever at your giant forehead.”

“That was actually the bishop.” S9 added proudly, shooting Hancock a smug look at the ghoul’s laugh.

“That’s right, brother.” Hancock assured, quirking his would-be eyebrow up as he met Nora’s eyes. “He’s a smart one, kitten. You gotta look out for us trouble makers with a great intellect. We’re always gettin’ into somethin’.”

“That is an absolutely terrifying thought, thank you.” She muttered, earning an almost imperceptible scoff from Danse behind her as she nodded to the doorway. “But, I think he’s right, we should get going before dawn if we have any hope of getting to Diamond City without incident. I’ll have Preston or Mac drop by with whatever you want, to compensation you for -”

“Don’t even think about it.” Hancock answered, raising his hand to stop her. “Call it repayin’ the favor.”

Nora nodded, the rise of gratitude in her chest pressing stark against her lungs. Charity wasn’t something she was familiar with, much less a kindness that she even knew how to respond to. “Thank you again, John.”

“Eh, get the hell outta here, you two.” He grumbled, flopping back down against the cushions and removing the tin of Mentat’s that he shook dramatically. “I don’t particularly want anyone seeing your brooding shadow in the form of a Brotherhood Paladin. Got enough shit about him moping around here the last time.”

“Duly noted.” She answered, waving back toward him as she ushered Danse and S9 out the door, looking back just in time to see Hancock slip a couple pills into his mouth with a quick quirk of his hand in their direction.

As she turned back, she saw Danse heading down the stairs, his arm outstretched in front of S9 who followed happily behind him. The gesture seemed almost unconscious, protecting S9 from both injuring himself from a potential fall and whatever less than savory creatures might be waiting below. Nora could feel a faint smile pulling at her lips as she fell in step behind them, earning a quick glance from Danse, his expression unreadable.

Fortunately, the landing was absent of anyone, both friend or foe, and she was able to guide S9 toward room right off the hallway while Danse stood respectfully outside the door. As soon as she entered, she began rummaging through the chest of drawers intently, her eyebrows drawn down in thought.

She looked back to S9 who was peering over her shoulder, scanning the fabric with curiosity. “What, uh, what colors do you like?”

“I dunno. I like really like green, like the color of the apple trees in the BioScience Division.” S9 answered, palming the two shirts she extended toward him thoughtfully.

“I...” Nora let out a frustrated breath, anxiety pulling at her chest as she turned to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know this stuff isn’t as nice as your clothes back at the Institute. It’s just, really different out here. Are you ...” The question tore at her throat, almost stripping it raw as she continued. “Are you sure you want to be out here with me? I can never give you all that you had there -”

“Please, Mom. I don’t want to go back.” S9 insisted, his voice cracking nervously as he lurched forward, wrapping his arms around her neck and half knocking her over in the process. “ _Please_ don’t send me back there, they’re scary and mean -”

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry I brought it up. Of course I want you with me, sweetie. You’re my son, and I love you.” She answered, quickly pulling him against her, not wanting to so much as let him go for a single second. “Even if you’re a synth or a clone or whatever they did, it’s still half of my DNA that you have. You’re still just as much my son as Father is. You have your dad’s kind eyes and his warm smile. Sorry to say you also got my damn nose and those pesky freckles. But you are still my flesh and blood.” At the confession of what she knew to be the truth beyond a doubt in her heart, she leaned back, meeting S9’s surprised eyes, quickly inhaling, panicked that maybe the sentiment was all too much, too fast for him. “Do you ... Do you believe that?”

“You - You really mean that?” He cautioned, scanning her face with a hint of defiance that was all too recognizable.

“ _Yes._ Is that... Okay?” She offered, not wanting to push the child into uncomfortable territory by making such a claim if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Yeah... I guess that’s why I trusted you so easily, ‘cause you’re really my mom after all.” S9 answered with a wide smile, his words full of a hope that filled her heart instantly.

Nora could feel trails of warm tears pouring down her cheek at the comment, a happy laugh breaking pass her lips as she pulled him back toward her, rubbing small circles into his back. “Of course I am, sweetheart. I’m your mom... Now, let’s get you changed before Danse starts wondering where we went.”

“Okay.” He agreed, quickly taking the clothes. “Hey, if Danse is your boyfriend, what happened to my dad?”

_Of course he would ask about him._

“He...” She cleared her throat before continuing, not wanting to think about Nate’s final moments any longer than necessary, especially when those same eyes were staring up at her eagerly. “He passed away, a really long time ago... It’s a long story, but can we talk about him later? I promise, I’ll tell you all about your dad and how wonderful he was... How much he loved you. Just... Later?”

“Okay, Mom.” S9 nodded, pulling the shirt over his head as she moved the grab a sweatshirt from the dresser as well, tossing it toward him.

At the wrinkle of his nose, she shot him a look of warning which he thankfully heeded, pulling the thick material over his head, the jacket definitely at least a full size too big, but it would be warm none the less.

Much to her disappointment though, there weren’t any pieces of armor that would fit him, which only inspired a surge of anxiety. She knew her ballistic vest could fit him if adjusted properly, but she had left that back at Home Plate.

““Are you two - “ The knock on the door drew her attention, turning just as Danse peered around the door frame, frowning as he notice her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“None of the armor is small enough... I’m just.” Nora looked toward S9 who was watching her with a nervous glance. “I was just getting worried, sorry it’s, uh it’s stupid. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“I can assure you, that there is no harm that will come to _either_ of you.” Danse offered, looking toward S9 with a quick nod. “However, in order to move as expeditiously as possible, I must urge that we embark immediately.”

She nodded as she pulled her pack over her back and adjusted the strap of her rifle as she moved it forward, taking S9’s hand in an instant. “Let’s go.”

*

In had taken them the better part of two hours just to make it to Trinity Tower, taking care to move silently and with an abundance of caution through the narrow alley ways so as not to draw any undue attention to their location. It was clear that S9 was getting tired, moving slower and slower with every passing minute, but fortunately, they hadn’t had the misfortune of encountering any of the wasteland’s less than desirable forces.

It wasn’t until they were about twenty minutes away from the city’s borders that S9 finally looked too weary to continue that Nora quickly gestured to the bus station by the old radio station. “Let’s stop for a spell, alright? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

S9 looked up at her, nodding absentmindedly as he gradually made his way toward the bench, flopping down immediately with a sigh. As she took the spot next to him, S9 instantly placed his head against her and she wrapped her arm around him on reflex.

“You’re not actually hungry, are you?” He accused, the words still retraining a hint of defiance in spite of his exhaustion.

“No, I’m not, but you should try to eat something.” She admitted, rummaging through the pack on her opposite side with one hand, offering a mutfruit toward him. At his incredulous expression, she couldn’t contain a soft chuckle before elaborating. “It’s a mutfruit... Kinda tastes like an apple, but a bit tart, like a, uh... I don’t know what to compare it to, just trust me, it’s pretty good.”

Nora caught the faint smirk pulling at Danse’s lips as he turned toward her, meeting her eyes only briefly before he went back to scanning the horizon. S9 took the fruit cautiously, narrowing his eyes in skepticism before taking a bite.

Any hint of apprehension turned to enthusiasm as he took another bite with a content smile. “I like it. It tastes kinda like the berry flavored medicine Doctor Li gave me when I was sick a couple months ago.”

“Yeah? I’m glad, kiddo.” She offered, relieved that at least someone had actually been caring for him, even if she doubted the other woman’s maternal nature. It also didn’t hurt to bear in mind that Doctor Li had cared for S9 at the Institute, because she would inevitably be able to see through any story Nora fed Maxson about S9’s true identity.

_There might be an ally there..._

“It would also be pertinent to drink some purified water.” Danse interrupted, extending a can toward S9 awkwardly. “It’s uh... I’m sure the humidity is quite different out here and I doubt you’re accustomed to anything irradiated.”

She could feel her heart swell at the gesture, watching as S9 took the can without a second thought, examining it before pulling the tab open as she nudged him, nodding toward Danse. “S9, what do we say when someone gives us something?”

“Uh... Thank you?” He guessed, taking a long gulp of the water.

“Exactly.” She agreed, looking up toward Danse with an affection she didn’t bother to hide as she reached forward, squeezing his hand. “Thank you, Danse ... For everything.”

Danse quickly squeezed her hand back, looking toward S9 briefly before answering. “I told you, you don’t have anything that you need to thank me for. I’m here for no other reason than my own decision. Surely you don’t envision me the sort to be so easily swayed.”

Nora let out a soft laugh, interlocking their fingers together absentmindedly. “No, I guess not... Deluded, maybe, but surely not yielding.”

“Are you maintaining that I’m stubborn, Nora? That would be... ironic.” He teased, looking back to scan the area behind them before glancing back to her.

She cocked her head up at him, a wide, playful smile breaking across her face at his comment.“And here I thought that head-strong attitude was why you liked me, handsome.”

“I...” Danse abruptly swallowed, a light blush creeping up his neck. “One of many, I suppose.”

Just as she was thinking of a smart response, S9 shifted lazily, his eyes fluttering closed as he started to relax against her. She considered waking him, she really did, but it was clear the kid was eons beyond fatigued, and she didn’t have the heart to disrupt his peace in any way whatsoever.

Without another word, she moved to tighten her grip against him, tossing her pack back over shoulder with a grunt.

At Danse’s curious expression, she let out a quick breath, meeting his eyes once more. “He’s exhausted... Do you think you can cover us both so I don’t have to wake him?”

“I’m sure I am more than capable of managing over the course of our short jot to Diamond City.” He reassured, watching as she lifted S9 against her and moved to stand, not without a fair amount of effort.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Nora mumbled, cradling the back of S9’s head as she steadied herself. “Luckily John was right... He _is_ a bit on the lanky side. I wouldn’t have guessed he was ten. Shit, he looks closer to _eight_... I guess he’s still waiting for that growth spurt. I, uh, I was small at his age too.”

Danse turned toward her, seeming to note her fond smile as she fell into step behind him. “I suppose he gets that from you?”

“That and his penchant for trouble, apparently.” She grumbled, trying to adjust S9 to a more comfortable position. It wasn’t like she had any experience carrying children his age and she didn’t have the years to prepare for carrying a ten year old, even if he was woefully behind in his weight percentile.

“I noticed that as well.” Danse quipped, shooting her an amused glance as she shifted with a sigh. “Would you... Prefer if I carried him for the remainder of the journey?”

“I - _What_?” She stopped at the offer, looking toward him dumbfound. “You’re... You’re offering to ... ?”

“Well it does seem to be the most logical option, does it not? I am, er...” He immediately cleared his throat, looking behind them momentarily before turning back toward her. “He is much closer to your size than my own.”

Nora narrowed her eyes defiantly, tightening her grip on S9 in the process, as if someone might rip him from her arms. “I am more than capable - ”

“ _Yes._ Of that I have no doubts. I was simply suggesting that our trip might be more expeditious should I render some assistance. I assure you, I meant no offense by the suggestion.” Danse rushed, seemingly taken back by her sudden hostility.

The concerned expression on his face softened her resolve immediately, and she let out a frustrated breath. “I know you weren’t ... Sorry I’m being so ... I don’t know. I’m just worried, I don’t want to let him out of my sight for one second.”

“You’re simply being a _mother_ , Nora. There’s no need to apologize.” He promised, his eyes wide with a warmth that filled her chest with happiness.

“I don’t know what good I did in the world to have you with me ...” She answered with a sigh, relaxing her grip slightly. “If you’re still willing to help, he’s ... Actually much heavier than he looks.”

“Of course.” The faint shadow of amusement in his tone wasn’t lost on her as he extended his arms to move S9 into his grasp, settling the child against his chest with ease. At her curious expression, he elaborated. “In between missions I often volunteered to assist with the squires both at the Citadel and on board the Prydwen. There were many times where they would fall asleep and need to be carried back to their quarters.”

“You’re amazing, Danse.” The confession escaped before she could consider them, sounding more honest than any other answer she could provide in the moment. They weren’t the three words she wanted to say, but the tone behind them stayed the same. It was down right breathtaking to see him walking beside her, S9 curled against him, fast asleep in his arms. “I can’t imagine how difficult this whole situation is for you to accept, and I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me that... That you’re here. _Still_.”

“Yes, well I suppose there was no question on the matter. I meant what I told you. You are far more important to me than the Brotherhood’s ideals... I won’t lie to you, this is... It will take time for me to be completely comfortable with the situation -” Danse paused just as S9 shifted in his arms, resting his head back against his shoulder with a soft breath. “Perhaps we should discuss this more privately at a later date. I ... I don’t want S9 to have the impression that I’m ... Can we finish this conversation later?”

“Yeah, of course.” Nora answered, nodding toward the Diamond City security guard at the outskirts of the city. “Besides, I’m hoping we can get him in without alerting Piper that he’s with us. I really don’t have the patience to play 100 questions with her today...”

“I don’t think anyone has the patience for that.” He grumbled dryly, nodding toward the guards outside the stadium doors with a cool stoicism as the ancient metal gears creaked to life.

As if my some miracle, the market place of Diamond City was almost completely deserved, save for the handful of early risers camping outside the shops waiting for them to open. She knew that Piper and Cait were the opposite of early risers, so they would at least be safe from their prying glance, but even the guards and settlers didn’t so much as look their way as they snuck into Home Plate without incident. At the soft click of the door closing behind them, Nora let out a heavy breath of relief, almost all of the tension in her shoulders melting away at the knowledge that they were safe behind locked doors, out of reach from friend and foe alike.

“I should bring him upstairs.” Danse offered, heading toward the stairs in an instant as he carefully tightened his grip on S9’s sleeping figure.

The motion was protective but tender, inspiring an outpouring of feelings that she didn’t even no how to process. It was strange, to see Danse adopting the sudden air of domestic comfort without any significant debate, but she couldn’t help but feel like she pressured him into compliance. She knew that he felt indebted to her, and the fact that their relationship had grown into one of intimacy only confused her further. While she wanted to believe that he was still there because he _wanted_ to be, she couldn’t quiet the nagging doubts in her mind about why he stay.

_Was it really just some convoluted sense of duty and responsibility?_

Nora made her way to the work bench, pulling out several pipe revolvers that were barely held together by their pins, dissembling them carefully as she tried to process the swirl of feelings racing around in her mind.

By the time she had completely taken apart three of the rusted old guns, she heard the soft fall of steps behind her, followed by the feel of strong arms wrapping around her waist, Danse gently pressing himself against her back with a soft hum. “S9 appears to be sleeping peacefully. He seemed quite pleased with the green plush toy that I located on the nightstand.”

“You gave him the dinosaur?” She asked, relaxing against his chest with a smile, reaching to circle his wrist with her hand. “I bought that off of Myrna a few weeks ago. I always hoped ... “ Her shaky breath moved through her, aching against the tightness of her chest. “Thank you. _Again_.”

“You don’t have to thank me every time I do something to help you, you know.” He whispered, placing a faint kiss to her temple before continuing. “I’m sure you’re under the impression that due to my lack of familiarity with... The particulars of relationships that I am not aware of the gravity of my promise to you, but I assure you, I am. And I meant every word.”

“I just... I don’t want you to change your mind.” _I’m terrified of losing you._ She cleared her throat, trying to repress the surge of vulnerability as she continued. “I know you don’t think I’m doing the right thing here, and I -”

“Nora, I don’t _know_ what the right thing is anymore... I have spend almost fifteen years in service to the Brotherhood being told every day that synths are the enemy, but all of that training and instruction falls short when applied to the reality of my experiences. I was taught that synths are nothing more than machines; metal beings designed to kill and destroy everything in their path. But that is not cohesive with what I’ve seen... I don’t know what to think about the situation. Your ... _son_ upstairs seems to be just as much flesh and blood as the squires on board the Prydwen. Just as much as I am or you are...” Danse let out a quick, frustrated breath as he continued. “I will admit, I am not wholly convinced that S9 is not a tool deployed by the Institute to manipulate your loyalties, even if he is unaware of this fact, but I am also certain that the child is precisely that, a child who is terrified and needs his _mother_ ... I confess, it will take time for me to come to my own deductions about... All of this, but I assure you, regardless of the outcome, my loyalties to you remain the same.”

The words were everything she needed to hear, calming the race of her pulse with the steadfast reassurance. As hard as she tried though, she couldn’t bring herself to speak, the emotion far too close to the surface for her to caution expressing her heartfelt appreciation.

Seemingly unnerved by her prolonged silence, Danse shift nervously behind her, tightened his grip around her waist. “I apologize... It would seem that I said the incorrect thing. I can promise you, I did not mean for my statements to be discouraging.”

“No.” She rushed, griping his wrist intently as not to let him pull away. “You didn’t say the wrong thing, Danse... You told me _exactly_ what I needed to hear, in the most honest and compassionate way possible... You always, I don’t know, you keep me grounded. And by God do I fucking need that.”

“You... You ground me as well.” He whispered, placing a brief kiss against the crook of neck at the words. “I have been informed that I have a tendency to be... Reactive, at times, as opposed to considering all sides of a situation. Your presence seems to mitigate that substantially.”

Nora turned her eyes toward him as she reached back, gripping his neck as she pulled his face back toward her own. She quickly pressed her lips to his as she leaned back against him, enjoying the warmth of his muscular frame behind her. “What did I tell you about kissing my neck, my dear?”

At the warning, Danse pressed another kiss against her neck, running his hand up the side of her waist tantalizingly slow. “Refresh my memory... Just to verify, of course.”

“Mmm. You’re insatiable, you know.” She offered, guiding his hand under the hem of her shirt, gasping at the feeling of his fingers tracing upward against her skin. As he moved his hand up to massage her breast, she arched back, enjoying the feel of his calloused palm against the sensitive flesh of her nipple. “Let’s not forget about the sleeping child upstairs.”

“Of course.” He assured, tracing his free hand down to grasp her hip as he sucked on the tender flesh of her collarbone. “Would you like me to stop?”

“God, no.” She promised with a faint exhale, closing her eyes as she felt his hand tightened on her hip, his chest firmly pressed up against her back as he began kissing her neck once more. “We’ll just have to be quiet, then.”

Danse just hummed at her claim, pressing a brief kiss to her shoulder and he traced his hands back to caress her hips. “Are you quite sure that you will be able to be ... quiet?”

_Not quiet enough._

“Yeah, baby, of course I can.” She lied, arching back as he teased at the waistband of her pants, toying with the button as if considering undoing it. As he slipped his hand under the fabric, he pulled her hip back against him, inspiring a soft gasp that snuck passed her lips on reflex.

“I’m not certain that’s true.” He whispered, sliding his hand back up to the side of her waist with a hum. “I do believe that you have a bathroom on the roof, do you not?”

Nora could feel the amused smile tugging at her lips as she looked back at him, his face flushed and eyes wide as he watched her expression.

“I like the way you think, gorgeous.” She retorted, reaching for his hand as she made her way toward the stairs, giving him a quick wink as she lead him silently toward the roof access. As she passed S9, she paused only long enough to verify the even rise and fall of his chest before climbing to the top floor, Danse emerging through the hatch only seconds behind her.

Almost as soon as he locked the hatch, she reached forward, pulling him into a hungry kiss, pressing herself stark against him. He instantly reciprocated, cupping the side of her face as he deepened the kiss with ease, sliding his hand under her shirt and gripping the curve of her waist with his free hand.

“Take this off.” He breathed, his words almost hesitant as he instructed her. Nora immediately obliged, dropped her shirt behind her as she pressed her lips back against his, wrapping her arms around his neck while he felt every inch of her exposed chest.

“I like when you get _authoritative.”_ She purred, mirroring the earlier discussion with a sly smile. At Danse’s brief moment of hesitation, she pressed a slow kiss against the sensitive skin under his jaw, letting out a sudden gasp as he, in turn, buried his hand in her hair and guided her lips back to his.

“Are you quite certain about that?” He pressed, scanning her face intently at the question. “I don’t... I don’t want to cross any boundaries with you. I wouldn’t ever want you to feel ... unsafe with me.”

Nora could feel her heart ache at the words, caressing the side of his face as she met his eyes with an outpouring of affection in her glance. The concerned frown on his face gutted her and she quickly ran her thumb over the slightly overgrown stubble on his jaw.

“Danse. I _know_ that you would never do anything to hurt me. I feel safest with you by my side ... You’re a good man. You’re kind and honorable. But I promise, if you do anything out of turn, I’ll be the first to correct you... Which I’m sure you’re more than aware. As for our personal lives, I want you to know that you can explore whatever interests you have...” She let out a nervous laugh at the sentiment, not wanting to seem uncouth, but continuing all the same. “I, uh, I’m open to just about anything you’d like, my dear... I _want_ you to enjoy yourself.”

_For fucks sake Shaun was conceived in the park next to the Boston Library, it not like I’m what one would call appropriate or conservative._

Danse hesitated, scanning her face with an introspective scrutiny before nodding, a shadow of a smirk on his lips. “I suppose you’re right about that... You’re nothing if not assertive.”

“Mmm... Is that so? Maybe you should correct me then, baby. Remind me who’s in charge.” She teased, letting out an excited breath as he reached to tug at the waistband of her pants once more, undoing the button with ease. “I want you to feel me... All of me. I’m yours, Danse. I mean it.” As she met his eyes, she whispered, half to herself and half on reflex. “Olet minun kultani.”

“I apologize ... I’m not familiar with that terminology. Is it ... Pre-war?” Danse asked, pausing as he scanned her face.

“I - uh.” She bit out a quick laugh, embarrassed at the question as she ran her hand through his dark tresses nervously. “Yeah, it’s an old saying. I probably couldn’t even translate it correctly if I tried, but it’s ... It’s not important. It’s just a term of affection, darling.”

“I see.” He stated, watching her with a softness to his eyes that only enamored her with him further. “There are no words that I am acquainted with to describe how I feel for you, Nora... If there were, I would express them without a moment of hesitation.”

“You’re actions speak louder than anything you could ever tell me.” She answered, pressing her hips back against him with a happy sigh. “I know ... I’m not good with words. I would rather _show you_ what you mean to me.”

At the admittance, Danse gently pulled her pants down past her hips, allowing her to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular chest which Nora tenderly ran her hand over.

“You’re too good for me.” She mumbled, regretting the words as soon as she voiced them. The dread was only expounded as he stilled, quickly cupping her cheek and meeting her eyes, his eyebrows drawn down in worry.

“Please... Please tell me you don’t truly believe that.” He asked, letting out a slow breath as he spoke. “You are the most ... Your merit is beyond anything the Commonwealth is even accustomed to. I assure you, you are far better than I deserve.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, but I’m selfish so I’ll let you believe that anyways.” Nora smarted, undoing the clasp on his pants as she pushed them down over his hips.

“Then I suppose I’m quite fortunate.” As the worn fabric dropped to the floor, Danse grasped her hips, kissing her with a hunger that was almost palpable in the very air between them.

“Shower.” She breathed, the feeling of his erection pressed against her stomach drawing all of her focus.

At the instruction, he guided her over toward the shower, pressing her back against the cool, metal wall with a start as he brought his body flush with hers, wrapping his arms under her legs as he lifted her up against him. Nora immediately locked her legs around his hips, deepening the kiss almost desperately as she arched against his touch, the tip of his erection teasing her heat by sheer proximity. Danse met her eyes momentarily, just long enough to see her nod as he angled himself toward her, pushing into her almost achingly slow.

The sensation was mind-numbing, the pressure of him as he entered immediately replaced by the feeling of blessed fullness, and she couldn’t help but arch toward him. Almost as if it were second nature, she settled down against him, taking his length in full as she let out a happy, unabashed moan at the feel of him pushing deeper inside of her.

“You better not drop me.” She quipped with a gasp, burying her head against his shoulder as he pressed a trail of kisses along her neck. He gripped her hips as he pressed into her carefully, wrapping his arm around her waist and securing her against him as he moved. With each thrust it was blatant that he was becoming far more assured than the last, pressing into her confidently. From the pleased smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, he was clearly enjoying every noise he drew from her lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He answered, capturing her lips as he reached to grip her hip, his heavy breaths echoing around them as they moved, rutting against each other as if they were in imminent need to be impossibly closer, addicted to the very existence of each other.

As Danse pressed his forehead to hers, meeting her eyes as he pressed into her, his grip firm but gentle, never wavering in how tightly secured she was against his chest, Nora knew.

She knew that every poet and musician and author to ever have written a damn word about love were absolute fools. Because there was no way in any realm of their expansive consciousness that they could ever put into words the overwhelming affection that destroyed her very sense of identity. He had become more than just a part of her life, but the very essence of her existence. Every breath she took and thought she had was consumed by him, even in his most stubborn and disagreeable of moods. Without ever intended or even looking, she had fallen into a state of dependence on him that both terrified and fulfilled her. Love was too cheap a word. She loved rainstorms and coffee and a good Pinot Noir. What she felt for him was stronger than anything she could even define. She knew exactly what motivated those damn fools of old to try and convey that very feeling, searching for the entirety of their lives to express what words could never quantify.

But by God if she was still afraid to tell him.

Nora buried her hand in his hair, wrapping her arm around his neck as she tried to pull him inconceivably closer, as if she could express her adoration by osmosis. At the motion, Danse too tightened his arm around her waist, kissing her with a passion that gave her hope that they would never separate.

She could feel the pressure growing, signaling the approach of her orgasm that was rushing closer with every movement, a content moan breaking past her lips. It was too soon, she knew, but there wasn’t anything that could possible delay it, not when he was holding her as if he we afraid to let her go.

Certainly not when he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, his voice deep and breathy as he spoke.

“You make me feel... Complete, Nora... You’re stunning.” Before she could answer, she felt herself tighten around him, the waves of pleasure rolling through her as she came, moving to bury her head against his neck. Danse immediately cupped the side of her face, guiding her face back toward his. “I want to look at you while you ... ”

“When you make me come, baby?” She teased, letting out a quick gasp as he adjusted his grip on her hip, thrusting into her steadily. “Yes, my l - my dear, just like that ... God, you’re a quick study.”

“I enjoy watching your response.” He admitted, pressing his forehead back against hers as he moved, a soft exhale falling from his lips with each push.

“You like seeing what you do to me?” She pressed, tightening her legs around his hips, angling her face back slightly to watch his own changing expressions. “You like knowing how much I enjoy every little things you do?”

“Yes.” He confirmed, pressing his lips back against hers, kissing her with a heartfelt tenderness as he stilled, slowing his pace as he pushed into her intently, a brief grunt falling from his lips as he came. She could feel the sudden warmth spill inside her and immediately rolled her hips forward, inspired an abrupt inhale from him as he slowed his thrusts, every nerve inside her heat hypersensitive to every movement. The feeling was cosmic, being there in Danse’s arms as they rode out their orgasms together, their ragged the only sound in the room as they stilled. Nora leaned back, watching his content smile with a wide grin.

“You’re amazing, baby.” She whispered pressing a quick kiss to hip lips with a happy hum. “I guess it’s good we’re in the shower.”

“I suppose it is.” He agreed, carefully lowering her back down with a smirk, reaching forward to brush her hair behind her ear in what was starting to feel like her favorite part of the day. As she leaned forward to turn the water on, relieved that in the sun overhead seemed to warm the water in the tank, she felt Danse behind her, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder as he snaked his arm around her waist. “You’re... You’re magnificent, my dear.”

Nora could feel her pulse race at the term of endearment, relaxing against him as the water poured over them and meeting his eyes with a smile. “I like that ... I like being yours, Danse.”

“Mine?” He answered, a faint redness creeping up his neck. “I must confess, I _am_ particularly fond of that designation. Though I’m not quite sure how to ... Label our relationship.”

“Oh.” She breathed, going achingly still at the implied question, not completely sure how to define what was growing between them herself. “It’s ... Whatever you want it to be. We never made any rules, so I know I have no right to expect anything from you ... I just want you to ...” The frustrated breath escaped before she could stop it, running a quick hand over her face. “I _need you_ in my life, darling, whatever that looks like for you ...”

Danse paused, watching her carefully before speaking. “I believe the term is called ‘monogamy’, yes?” At her nod, he continued, his tone nervous and unsure. “That is ... That is what I would prefer. I don’t have ... I’m not interested in anyone else, Nora. You are my... my _everything_. I want that with you. I want everything.”

“You can have it.” She promised without a doubt in her mind, turning to face him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. At the movement, he pressed his head against hers, letting out a soft sigh. “You are my everything too, my darling. I ... I don’t know what to label this. You’re ... You’re not my boyfriend, because you mean so much more to me than that. My better half, maybe? My partner. In crime, in _life_. Whatever may have you.”

“Our bond does seem to transcend the confines of spoke language.” He assured, running his hand through her hair. “I do quite enjoy that particular verbiage ... Partners.”

_Well other half of my soul seems a bit much. Especially so soon._

“Me too.” She whispered, reaching for the soap behind her and gently rubbing it across his chest, watching the trail of suds against the firm muscles as she pressed the bar along his torso with an echo of a smirk. “I don’t want anyone else ... In case that wasn’t clear, before.”

“It was implied ... But I do appreciate the clarification.” He replied, covering her hand with her own as he took the bar of soap, moving it against the skin of her chest and waist, feeling the soft flesh of her breast with a fond attention. His eyes were transfixed to the sudden bubbles as he pressed his palm against her waist, dipping his hand down to trace the curve of her hip, cupping her ass with a smirk. “I will admit. You are ... _breathtaking_ and the thought of anyone else so much as thinking about you in that respect ... It makes me significantly envious.”

“My heart belongs to you.” Nora promised, the words almost instinctual as he rubbed the soap along her shoulders and down her back, stopping only briefly before continuing.

“I share the sentiment.” He muttered as she reached for the soap, taking it from him and turning to trail it along his back with a content sigh.

_I’m just a fool in love ..._

Self sabotage was always a welcome friend, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Are you really willing to accept all of this ... S9 included, given all that he is?”

“Yes.” The words came without a moment of hesitation, Danse reaching to hold the side of her face as the tense moment elongated, pressing between them like smog. “I ... I care for your _son_ , just as I care for you. I told you that I would protect him, and I intend to honor that promise with my life, should the situation arise ... I won’t make you lose him again, I assure you.”

“Thank you.” She whispered in earnest, washing the rest of her body with a content sigh, the feel of Danse’s hand moving against her scalp and burying his hand in her tresses.

“I _am_ fairly fond of your hair... It’s quite beautiful.” He confessed, rubbing his free hand along her waist, the skin scrubbed clean of any grime or imperfection.

“I like when you play with it.” She admitted, relaxing against him with a sigh, as she placed the soap back on the ledge. “Back to being a - a parent, I suppose.”

“If we’re being frank, I did enjoy seeing you interact with S9 ... You’re an outstanding mother, you know.” He assured as they washed the suds from their bodies, allowing the water to erase away the bubbles, and reaching forward to turn the water off. At his words, Nora felt a faint warmth creeping up the back of her neck, going instantly still.

_Jesus H, we just fucked against the shower wall and this is what makes me blush?_

Danse instantly reached forward, caressing the side of her face, seemingly noticing her hesitation. She looked up at him, the lump in her throat growing into a boulder as she encircled his wrist with her fingers. “Thank you ... I can’t tell you how much I... _Thank you_.”

He quickly pressed his lips back against hers, kissing her with a soft tenderness that screamed just about everything she wanted to say, pulling away far too soon. “I don’t think I can ever tire of kissing you.”

“Promise?” Nora challenged, watching the twitch of his lips at the comment.

“Without a doubt in my mind.” He assured, reaching for the pile of folded towels with a gentle smile, offering her one without another word.

She quickly dried off, moving to the dresser on the opposite side of the room to rifle through the random articles of clothing, a laugh escaping her lips as she found what she was searching for, pulling out the familiar blue fabric. As much as it was a representation of her previous life, her old identity, it felt more comforting than any of the alternatives. Besides, she knew that she had a reputation to keep regarding the new, slightly unstable Minutemen General running across the Commonwealth in the undeniably recognizable Vault suit.

“It’s a good color on you, you know.” Danse offered, nodding to the suit with a start. “It’s also rather... _Flattering_ to your figure.”

“Is that so?” She teased, failing to fight the smile from her lips as she watched his expression.

“Quite.” He answered, taking the pair of fatigues she extended toward him silently, meeting her eyes as he traced the fabric with his fingers.

“Come on.” She pressed, stepping into the suit as she pulled it over herself, instantly zipping it up with a shrug. “If S9 is anything like me, he’s probably ran off into some sort of trouble already.” The horrified look on Danse’s face was worth more than gold, an amused chuckle falling from her lips as soon as she saw his expression. “My thoughts exactly, sweetheart.”

“I suppose you’re right. Let’s go, my dear.” Danse let out a quick breath, buttoning the trousers and looking toward the hatch as he pulled the shirt over his arms.

Nora looked back at him as she pulled the door open, the flutter in her chest distracting her as she started down the stairs, her eyes transfixed on his content smile. Any amusement she felt vaporized in an instant as she descended the ladder, noticing the empty bed with a bone-chilling panic.

Because of course S9 actually _had_ run off into certain trouble.

_He’s nothing if not my own flesh and blood._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways yes I was promoted again.... Which is strange

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Many of the experiences and scenarios within the police departments are authentic, but some were definitely made for the story.
> 
> Arthur Maxson is a bastard and tBOS/PDs is going to be painted in a bad light in this.


End file.
